


Pearly Tears

by IsabellaJack



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Forbidden Love, Melancholy, Merman Bucky, Merpeople, Minor Character Death, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, sad Steve, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9543503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsabellaJack/pseuds/IsabellaJack
Summary: "Were there ever suicide attempts or bodies recovered?"It's quiet and Steve then realizes what she must have read into that. He chuckles to change the mood. "Pegs. It's not what you think. I just ... I saw something in the water and I wasn't sure. Maybe I hallucinated it.""Okay,” she answers calmly. “And the answer is no. At least not that I know of."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this written for a while. I LOVE mermaid stories. I love the myths and lore. I decided to write in this genre and try to step out of my comfort zone. Please let me know if it's worth continuing. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

 

 

Steve Rogers drops his two heavy suitcases on the porch and stretches his back. The crashing waves of the Irish Sea is behind him as he closes his eyes. It’s like going back to his childhood days. The memories of running after his mother and skipping on the beach on the outskirts of Dublin attacks him behind his eyelids and he opens them quickly.

_Not now._

He looks around and doesn’t find any changes or damages to the vacant cabin in the secluded beach. The surroundings are different though. The flowers his late mother planted had died. He crouches down and touches one of the dead flowers. A resigned sigh escapes him and his eyes watches his fingers running through the dry soil.

This will be on his to-do list. Right now all he has to do is make sure the place is livable again.

As soon as he gets in, he’s hit with so many memories of his childhood here. It’s where they used to spend their vacation. When his mother used to come here for a peace of mind.

He leaves the door open as he wanders inside. The old blue couch is there with the worn out blanket over it. Some old paintings and photographs are still hung on the wall. The coffee table that used to hit Steve’s wobbly knees whenever he tried to maneuver around it to get to the sofa is still there.

He smiles but then stops when he sees fresh flowers in a bowl sitting on the table. There’s a card there. He picks it up. It's addressed to him.

 

_Steve,_

_Made the place a bit presentable. Will stop by tomorrow._

_Peggy_

 

He smiles genuinely for the first time since he buried his mother three months ago.

He smells the flowers. They’re beautiful.

Going to the kitchen, he finds it well cleaned. The fridge is stacked and there’s a pie that’s covered with aluminum foil. He opens it and it’s still warm and smells delicious.

“Peggy, you outdid yourself this time,” he says to himself.

Going back outside, he picks up his bags and hauls them in and up the stairs to the room he used to live in when he was little.

The bed is the first thing he sees and he puts the bags down slowly. His chest tightens but he gulps and summons the courage to go to the next room instead. His mother’s room.

Once he sits on her bed, he takes everything in.

It’s still the same as he remembers.

Hasn’t changed a bit. He remembers coming here to wake her up because of a nightmare he’d had or a sound he’d heard in the cabin. She would just scoot aside and let him lie next to her. His six year old self would feel safe only then. Right beside her.

It’s in that moment that he realizes where he truly is in his life.

He no longer has his mother.

A painful sob escapes him and he doubles over in grief, letting the tears fall for the first time since he buried her.

 

~.~.~

 

The next day Steve showers, plugs his phone to charge, and brews some coffee. He reminds himself while taking a whiff of the strong smell to thank Peggy for providing everything for him to be able to live here for a while. He’d been worried that he’d have to go into town to for grocery shopping but he’s glad that she got everything, even his favorite coffee brand.

Making breakfast isn’t on his plans at all. He takes his mug, and goes outside to stand on the porch.

The waves are calmer. They’re not crashing violently against the shore or the few rocks here and there.

He decides to go for a walk. It’s not windy but a bit chilly. So he puts on his sweater and takes his mug with him as he walks along the beach. He drinks while glancing around, filling his vision with the place.

Part of him is thankful that his mom had bought this place. This land and beach belonged to her. It was her property, which he naturally inherited after. He frowns as he remembers how she stated in her well that he never sells this property and that he keeps it safe from all people and trespassers.

Steve wishes he could live here. Indefinitely. But his life back in Washington DC is waiting for him.

He makes sure he’s not to be close to the waters. Few huge rocks block his way so he maneuvers to go around them.

Few minutes go by and he finds himself staring at his bare feet as they move in the sand.

“Brooding doesn’t suit you Steve Rogers,” a nice voice says behind him.

He smiles before turning back and when he does, it’s to see Peggy Carter heading his way. She’s walking barefoot with her heels dangling from her hand.

“Hey,” he greets softly.

She smiles with those red lips and reaches him. She envelops him in her arms and he lets her hug him. Really hug him and he feels a bit safer.

He makes sure his hand with the mug is away from her. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Are you joking? It’s the least I could do. Did you like the coffee?”

He pulls back and raises his mug. “Of course.”

And then he sees it. That sympathetic look in her eyes. He quickly clears his throat and stares out at the sea.

“How’s Sousa?”

He doesn’t hear any answer from her. Instead, he feels her arm link with his and she turns him around walking him back to the cabin.

“Well, if you must know, he sends you his regards. He couldn’t make it with the workload. But he will make it next week, hopefully. I, myself, was able to find some conferences here in Dublin to attend. For the next four days. I’m staying at a nearby motel.”

He nods but still won’t look her way. He smiles when he asks, “And Sarah?”

“She’s wonderful. Her teacher’s favorite,” Peggy says proudly.

It tugs at his heart when he remembers that she’s named after his mom. Peggy loved his mom and insisted much to his mom's disapproval to name her daughter after her.

“You should bring her here sometime with that beautiful corgi of yours,” he says with a glance her way.

She stops and turns him toward her. He finally looks at her and a lump forms in his throat.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it in time.”

He sniffles but doesn’t let the tears fall. “It’s okay. I know. You made it to the burial. That’s enough for me.”

She runs her hand through his hair and he sighs as he closes his eyes. It feels nice. It also brings back memories of them. Of the old days. Back when she was his.

Then Peggy pats him on the cheek gently and he opens his eyes.

“So tell me. How’s Sam?” She asks as she takes his mug and sips from it.

He chuckles watching her as they make their way back.

“He’s busy with his other clients. He’s cutting me some slack.”

“He better be!”

He shakes his head at her defensiveness. She’s always been on his side.

“I haven’t written anything for four months. Ever since she got sick,” he admits softly.

The waves crashing interrupts him.

“You know…maybe-"

“Peggy…” he sighs as he hangs his head back.

“You should start now. It’s therapeutic. Wasn’t that why you became a writer in the first place?” she remarks as her arm wraps around his waist.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, I've been staring at my laptop screen for days but nothing is coming out. Everytime I try!”

“Try pen and paper.” She winks at him.

He chuckles and they both reach the cabin. “If I do that, then I’ll start sketching and you know how that goes.”

“Oh hush! You’re acting like you’re awful at it.”

Before they get inside, he stops her. “Hey Peggy...”

“Hmm?” She turns around and her face is so beautiful, full of light and love. He really doesn’t deserve her. Not then, not now.

Steve takes her hand and kisses it. “Thanks. For everything.”

She chuckles as she frames his face with her hands. “You’re so dramatic, I swear to God. You should join the Royal Shakespeare Company. It's just across this sea.”

“Shut up,” he says laughingly brushing her hands away.

They both go inside and she decides to make him lunch. He ends up eating joyously for the first time in a while.

 

~.~.~

 

Early morning the next day Steve does the same. He brews coffee and goes for a walk. This time he walks until he finishes all the coffee in his mug. He reaches an area where small boulders are scattered close to shore. He finds one that he can safely sit on. He leaves the mug on the sand and climbs. He sits there, not thinking of anything really.

“Fascinating,” he whispers at the sea. “You’re still the same…while I’m not.”

He sighs as he wraps his arms around his knees. Closing his eyes, he takes deep breaths. His mind is slowly clearing up when his skin tingles as he feels that there are eyes on him. Like someone is watching him. He opens his eyes and looks around.

He finds no one.

He’s very certain that he’s within the property of his mom. His. He didn’t trespass.

Steve runs his hands through his hair and jumps off the boulder. Picking up his mug, he heads back to the cabin. Strangely, he can’t shake off the feeling that he’s being watched.

 

~.~.~

 

That night, while trying to sleep to the sound of waves outside the window, his cell phone rings. Furrowing his brows, Steve picks it up from his nightstand to check the ID. He had told his friends not to call unless it’s an emergency. So seeing Natasha’s name flashing gets him to sit up straight and answer quickly.

“What is it?” He asks with dread filling his voice. He should be used to receiving bad news but it still freaks him out.

“Wow, Rogers. You forgot your manners already?” Nat says and he can picture her smirking at the other end.

Covering his face with his hand, he lets out a loud sigh. “Sorry. It’s just I told you-“

“Yeah, unless it’s an emergency. Which it is by the way.”

“Oh, okay. I’m listening.”

She’s quiet and he waits, biting his lip worriedly. “Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

Nat keeps quiet.

“You’re scaring me now,” he says as he gets up off bed to pace in the room. He really can’t handle bad news right now.

“I got engaged,” she says coolly.

That makes him stop abruptly in the middle of the room.

“Wait, what?” he raises his voice unintentionally.

She doesn’t say anything and he continues, “Nat, are you pulling my leg here?”

“No. I thought I’d let you know. Before the bad news spread.”

He frowns and then chuckles as he sits back on the bed. “Bad news? You’re not happy? I don’t understand.”

“Me too.” She sighs. “I don’t understand it either. He’s an idiot for proposing.”

Steve raises his brow. “Who the hell is it? I left you and you were single.”

“Well.” She clears her throat. “Not really.”

“Uh…” Steve’s memory is in tact. He would’ve seen her hanging around with someone.

Nat inhales deeply. “I was dating him before Sarah got sick. I just wasn’t sure he’d stick and I didn’t find the right time…”

“Oh.” He lies back on the bed. The news is still surprising. He does all the calculations in his head. “That was around four months ago…wow, he moves fast. What’s his name?”

“Clint. Clint Barton. He’s a chef so I thought I’d say yes since he’s gonna cook for me forever.”

He snickers. “He’s gonna appreciate your romance.”

“No one forced him to propose,” she replies defensively.

“And no one forced you to accept,” he retorts.

He smiles as he hears her chuckle a bit later. “You love him?”

“I do. And why wait, you know?”

He nods. But in reality, he’s never been in this situation before.

He’s never been truly in love.

 

~.~.~

 

The next day finds Steve panting as he puts his hands on his sides and doubles over in exhaustion. It's been a while since he jogged. He stopped ever since his mother got admitted to the hospital. He couldn’t leave her side.

His body is relearning all of that. It’s trying to remember what used to be the most mandatory routine of Steve’s every day life.

He looks at the sea as he takes huge gulps of water from his bottle. He wipes the sweat dripping off his forehead and looks at the ocean.

The water doesn't look inviting. It looks dark, grim and daunting. It's not the same image few days ago.

The sound of waves crashing the shore makes him decide and he takes off his shoes. He then takes off his t-shirt and decides to just go for a swim in his shorts.

He doesn't run his way to the water. He walks slowly as he lets the memory of his mom laughing on the beach while he drew her cloud his brain. He doesn't see the water. He just feels it engulfing him as he walks until he can no longer feel his feet touching the bottom.

Steve stays afloat on his back for few minutes. Looking at the sky somehow reminded him of home. Where his friends are at the moment. Where he left them to come here and stay for a while. They think he's here to write. But the truth is he's here to mourn.

He closes his eyes and just tunes everything out. The sound of waves, the sound of wind and the coldness of water all surround him. Fill him. He doesn't want to feel, think or remember.

It doesn't work for long, so he groans and flips to swim further. He swims and swims and then stops not far away from the shore but not close either.

It's seconds before he decides to let himself go and sink.

His body is dropping deeply in the water. His eyes don't see anything except murky water and then it's almost black. He can't see anything clearly, the deeper he goes.

He calms down much better down there, lost. He closes his eyes. It's a bit safer too. Holding his breath for longer than normal is nothing new. He used to do that in college in the swimming team.

As he is there, under water, surrounded by water and hidden from the world, he feels some sort of serenity.

He doesn't open his eyes yet, and he knows it's only few seconds later that he'll swim up. He just needs more of this surprising peace.

Then he feels it.

Somehow, he feels that something is swimming close to him. Around him.

He feels a shadow crosses his face.

Steve doesn't open his eyes. He doesn't move because it must be some sort of a big fish or a shark.

He can picture the headlines tomorrow.

_Author Steve G. Rogers Eaten by Shark._

Then he feels whatever is moving closely around him stop.

It stops right in front of his face.

He can feel it. So close yet not touching.

He's running out of breath but he can't move. He can't even open his eyes. It's strange how few minutes ago he was relishing the solitude. The water moves his body a bit.

Then the burning in his lungs becomes unbearable. The need for air forces him to swim up. But before doing so, he opens his eyes.

He wasn't prepared for what he finds out. He really has expected to be face to face with a big fish or a shark or even a sea turtle. Anything but human eyes.

Piercing gray-blue eyes are staring directly in his eyes. 

He involuntarily lets out a scream and jerks back then swims up as fast as possible. When he breaks out of the water, he gasps loudly for air. He splutters and wipes his face and looks around frantically.

Someone is here. Someone just ambushed him down there.

"How the fuck..." he wonders loudly.  Then he yells, "Hello?"

It dawns on him that maybe this person is still down there.

Drowning or actually…dead.

"Shit! Shit!" he lets out before he takes a deep breath and goes under again.

He dives to the same spot he left and looks around but there isn't anyone. Plus, it’s dark. He goes back up and looks at the beach. There isn't anyone there. No possible abandoned clothes either.

He closes his eyes to remember. He only remembers the eyes and a black hair. That's all.

Taking a deep breath, he dives again and looks around. He does that three times but to no avail.

He gets tired and frustrated and decides to swim back to shore. As soon as he gets out of water, he looks back and waits. He can’t just abandon somebody.

When the only sounds around are the waves and his shallow breathing, a thought enters his brain.

What if he hallucinated the whole thing?

He was there for a long time, longer than normal. What if his oxygen-deprived brain conjured up those eyes.

"Fuck..." He mutters under his breath.

Picking up his t-shirt and water bottle, he glances one last time at the sea.

Nothing. No one.

 

~.~.~

 

"I'm okay, Sam," Steve says as he puts his legs up on the chair opposite him. The TV is muted and the book on his lap is discarded for the sake of having a conversation with his best friend.

The sun has already set and he’s feeling tired, especially after his earlier scary diving experience.

"Dude, you act like I don't know you. I've been friends with you for years."

Steve sighs and gets up to make himself a hot cocoa. It's getting cold outside and he can hear the waves crashing violently against the shore.

"You don't have to worry," Steve asserts as he holds the phone with his shoulder while he pours hot milk into his cup. He watches, fascinated as the powdered chocolate dissolves and the milk turns light brown.

“Alright. How about…did you start something?” Sam asks.

Steve lets out a long frustrated sigh. “No. Nothing is coming out. I’d sit there in front of my laptop and…nothing. And I’m reading again. Or trying to, to jump start my brain.”

“Listen man. This is the time to write. I need you to channel those feelings into writing. For God’s sake, just write anything. It’ll help you out.”

The piercing blue eyes flash in his mind and he pauses. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I gotta go."

Sam pauses and Steve hates that he's doing that to his friend. He’s not avoiding him. Not really. But he needs to call Peggy.

"Alright. You’ll call me, yeah?"

"Sure will."

After he hangs up, he quickly dials Peggy's number and goes outside on the porch. The waves are violent tonight and the sea doesn't look really calm or serene. It’s worse than earlier.

"Don't tell me that I'm your new muse. I can't handle you, Steve."

He chuckles a bit. "No." He sips his chocolate milk and it warms him a bit. "You know you were the inspiration behind the _Agent_ right?"

"Yes, Steve," she sighs. "Everyone who knows you knows that. Please, Sousa has been bugging me to talk to you about something he has on his mind. Please refuse, Steve."

"Well, you can relax 'cause nothing is coming to mind. Nothing is coming out. Can't even write a full sentence."

There's a moment of silence before her tone changes to that of a gentle one. "How are you holding up?"

Steve shuts it down immediately. "Listen, I wanted to ask..."

"Uh huh."

"I know you're not always here. You live in London. But you've been the caretaker for some time. You come here to check from time to time..."

"Yeah."

"Has there ever been a...I don't know, people who'd pass by here?"

"No. Your place is a private property. You know your mother bought it and that part of the land. Why?"

"Or maybe…were there ever suicide attempts or bodies recovered?"

It's quiet and Steve then realizes what she must have read into that. He chuckles to change the mood. "Pegs. It's not what you think. I just ... I saw something in the water and I wasn't sure. Maybe I hallucinated it."

"Okay,” she answers calmly. “And the answer is no. At least not that I know of."

He hums and gnaws on his lips.

“You alright, Steve?”

He chuckles and it comes out nervous. _Shit!_ This is the last thing he needs. His friends thinking he’s gone crazy…or wanting to commit suicide.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just coming up with logical explanations in my head.”

“Tomorrow is my last day in Dublin, so we’re gonna have dinner together. I’ll stop by to pick you up. There’s this cozy yet marvelous pub...”

He casts a look at the dark sea. It’s like the sea is going mad.

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

~.~.~

 

The sea is very much calm the next day. While waiting for Peggy, Steve decides to take her and Sam’s advice.

He walks along the beach until he reaches those boulders. He sits next to one on the slightly warm sand and puts up his black notebook on his bent knee. He holds his pencil in his right hand and waits. His eyes scan the view in front of him. He hopes that he can write something. Anything really.

When he looks down, he finds the clean, blank notebook page. One of the writing tips he remembers from one of his professors is that he should always fill it up. Never stare at a blank screen or paper. Just write.

He closes his eyes and takes two deep breaths before doing it.

As he puts the pencil on the page, he feels eyes on him.

He looks up. Then around.

No one.

He better does some work before Peggy gets here. He really wants to do something so they would stop babying him.

He looks down, purses his lips.

“Okay. I can do this. Writer’s block is just…”

And he finds himself writing what he’s feeling. Only one sentence.

**I am alone.  
**

He huffs, puts his stuff aside and just lies back. He tries really hard not to cry. Not at his writer's block, but at what he wrote.

“Jesus Christ...”

He keeps staring at the clear sky until the sun makes him sleepy. He decides that it won’t hurt to sleep a bit. Until Peggy gets here. They still have three hours.

 

Steve doesn’t know how long he’s been sleeping. But he surely knows that he’s been having the most relaxing peaceful, dreamless sleep before a heavy thing lands on his chest. He feels it gradually, seconds by seconds, as it grows heavy but not annoyingly heavy.

It moves over his heart and he comes to consciousness slowly and realizes that he’s still on his back.

But this time, he doesn’t see the sky above him.

It’s those piercing gray- blue eyes again. Staring back at him, puzzled.

Steve holds his breath and stares back. He doesn’t move lest whomever this person is runs away.

Long black hair blocking the sky, high cheekbones, strong jaw, and perfect mouth, captivating eyes…

He stares back and realizes that this face is…

“Beautiful,” Steve breathes.

The cheeks turn pink and the eyes look down for a second before looking at Steve again.

Steve blushes too as he realized that he said it out loud. Then he notices that the heavy thing on his chest is this guy’s hand. It is resting right over his heart.

“Your heart is heavy,” the stranger says in a very calming voice. “Why?”

Steve gulps and doesn’t know what to say to that. Could he feel his heart? What he's feeling? He wants to get up and ask questions and ask why was this guy underwater and what was he doing there.

The stranger keeps looking at him in wonder. As if Steve is the most confusing thing ever. Steve then feels the other hand come to touch his face when Peggy’s voice reaches him.

“Steve, where the bloody hell are you?”

Steve turns his head in the direction of the cabin, to his right. He doesn’t see Peggy. The sun had already set. _How long was I asleep?_

When he looks back, he can’t find the face over him.

He quickly sits up and looks around but there isn’t any sign of him. Of a guy who was literally here seconds ago.

_They were just seconds. How could he run this fast?_

Steve gets up and looks around. Then he runs his hand through his hair. _It must’ve been a dream._

He jerks around when a hand touches his shoulder. He finds Peggy’s concerned face.

“You alright, darling? I kept looking all over for you,” she asks gently.

He breathes deeply as he tries to compose himself. He wrings his hands together. Peggy must’ve seen the guy. He’s gotta be here somewhere. He goes to ask but stops for fear she might think he’s hallucinating. Again.

But he knows he isn’t.

“Steve!”

“Uh, yeah. I wanted to take a nap and apparently I slept more than necessary.”

“Okay, why is your t-shirt wet?”

“Huh?”

He looks down and finds the spot over his heart is damp. He touches there and gulps.

Letting out a fake chuckle, he says, “I went for a swim earlier and then put on my clothes and took a nap out here.”

Peggy narrows her eyes at him and the he holds her shoulders. “I’m fine. I just…slept a good sleep here.”

“Whatever you say. Come on. Our reservation is in half an hour. Let’s enjoy my last night here.”

“Okay, I’ll get my stuff.”

He picks up his notebook and pencils, his mug and looks one last time at the rocks surrounding them.

He’ll find out later what the hell is going on around here.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine. Sorry for the long chapter.

 

 

 

“Well, that was great food…and drinks,” Steve says laughingly standing at the door of the cabin. Peggy is right behind him on the porch.

“Of course. I do my homework Steve,” she replies sweetly.

Steve pulls the keys out of his pocket to open the door when he feels Peggy’s hand slide into his and pull him back. When he turns, she engulfs him in a warm tight hug and he lets out a breath.

“Getting sentimental?” he asks, trying to be light about it.

“Shut up,” she says into his shoulder.

Before she pulls away, her hand cups the back of his head and then she kisses his cheek. He stares into her warm eyes and she smiles as she reaches to that same cheek with her thumb.

“Got a bit of lipstick on you.”

He shrugs and then she holds his hands as she looks into his eyes. Steve gulps because he knows there is no escape here. She’s forcing him to face her. To confront it.

“I will always, _always_ be there for you. You must know that.”

He nods. “Yeah, Pegs, I know-"

“No.” And she cups his cheek. Her eyes are teary and it scares him. Mortifies him that Peggy Carter is showing vulnerability. He doesn’t need this. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“I know how painful it must be and I’m not an idiot, Steve. You’re hurting-"

“Peggy-“

“No, listen to me. I need to say this and you need to hear it.”

His breath hitches and all he can hear is the crashing waves and her sniffles.

“I lost her too. I lost a friend in her. And you know that I’ve lost people before. So I know how it feels. It’s true that it’s been three months since and I’m not going to say that time will make you forget because it won’t. She’s your mother. You _will_ remember her every minute of your day…”

He feels a tear slide down his cheek and he squeezes her hands tightly. She wipes his tear away but he doesn’t move. He tries to hold it together much better but his courage is slipping away.

“But you have to know grieving is part of it. Not all of it but a part nonetheless. Right now you’re thinking...how can I overcome this or you might not want to…but that saying that...life goes on…It does Steve. It _truly_ does. You don’t have to do it now and you certainly don’t have to do it alone. We’re here. I’m here. She’s here. Her memories, her spirit, her light. Celebrate her.”

He nods and looks down. His vision is blurry of the fresh tears that are threatening to fall.

“So I don’t want you to hole yourself up here, brooding and thinking you’re one of those characters you write about…”

He lets out a wet laugh and she joins him.

“You have a life. You have people who love you and care about you and are waiting for you to come back.”

“What do ya want me to do, Pegs?” he asks desperately.

“Not to forget Steve Rogers.”

He nods again and looks at her. She wipes his tears away and he sniffles this time and chuckles.

“You got some one-liners. Maybe you should write and I’ll hook you up with Sam.”

“Ha Ha…" Then she gives him a calculating look. "Maybe you should write something different.”

“Different?” he asks, intrigued.

“Instead of mystery and suspense, try to write about love.”

He lets out a genuine chuckle this time. “Yeah, like I have it.”

She slaps his arm playfully. “It doesn’t have to be the romantic kind. Love of your mother, your friends, your career, love of life itself.”

He sighs and wrings his hands together. “I don’t think I’m there yet if you want me to write about that. Right now I can’t even write.”

“It’ll come to you, darling. Give it time. Go out. Walk the streets, meet people…trust me. It’ll do you wonders. I’ve been there, you know. Granted not with writing but…” She sighs before adding, “You’ve got to let someone in.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right, Steve. I’m _Agent_ ,” she says and winks.

He laughs and they hug.

“Thanks Pegs,” he whispers.

“Anytime. I’ll see you soon. I’ll try to stop by as soon as I have a window. Or I’ll bring my little gang and ambush you on a weekend.”

He pulls away. “I’d love that.”

 

~.~.~

 

After bidding goodnight to Peggy, who insisted he doesn’t give her a ride to the airport tomorrow, Steve closes the door behind him and retires for the night.

A bit of the weight on his chest has been lifted. Peggy’s words helped a bit. He needed to hear that even if he wasn’t prepared for it.

After turning off everything downstairs, he heads upstairs. When he goes inside the bedroom, he sees the windows are still open. Seeing those waves crashing before closing the windows reminds him of the stranger earlier today. He frowns at the thought.

_Where on earth did that guy come from?_

Steve hovers at the foot of the bed, thinking that maybe he should go take a walk and probably look for the guy. He needs to know what’s he doing around the area.

But as soon as he drops his weight on the bed, he thinks it can wait. Sleep is calling for him.

 

Steve is in that state between consciousness and sleep. That moment before you fall into the abyss of slumber when a sound jolts him awake.

He raises his head a bit to make sure it was real. Looking around, he realizes that he’s still in his jeans, sweater and shoes. He grumbles but freezes when he hears the sound again. It’s a sound alright, kinda like something was knocked over and it’s coming from outside, probably the porch.

He slowly gets up. Back in his apartment he would’ve grabbed his baseball bat. Now, he is really thankful for the self-defense classes that Nat insisted he takes with her. A huge part of him is not worried about the source of the sound. He’s in a cabin by the sea. He starts rationalizing it. Must be the wind, or some bird or animal.

Steve goes downstairs and checks the windows. They’re all locked and intact. The door is locked and there’s no one inside. Looking out the windows, he doesn’t see anything but the small garden of his mother. Yawning, he turns the lights back off but stops to look out the window again.

There’s just the sea.

“Must be a bird or something,” he says to himself.

And he makes his way upstairs to sleep. And this time he takes off his clothes before flopping on the bed.

 

~.~.~

 

The next morning, Steve wakes up early determined to go back to his old routine. So he brews his coffee and charges his phone. He wears his gym shorts and grabs his running shoes. Pouring coffee in his mug, he sighs at the first sip. His phone chirps with notifications of e-mails. He locks the screen and disables all notifications.

He goes out for his jog but as soon as he steps outside on the porch, his foot steps on something hard. Looking down, he finds that he had crushed some seashells. He crouches down to inspect them.

There, in the middle of the porch are five seashells. Huge and colorful, and around them are three colorful small rocks. They’re so beautiful he smiles. When he inspects them with his hands and against the light, he finds that he’s never seen like them before. The colors of the seashells are breathtaking. Turquoise, pearly, red and yellow.

“Huh.”

Steve picks them up carefully; thankfully only one had been cracked. He puts them on the wooden rail. They must’ve been around here, his mind supplies. He isn’t ready to think about where they came from. He needs his jog.

Taking a deep breath, he smiles at the magical scenery in front of his eyes and then sprints along the shore feeling lighthearted somehow.

His mind can’t help but think of that stranger.

With that, he runs like never before.

 

~.~.~

 

Before sunset, he decides to pick up his notebook, pencils and leave his cellphone in the cabin to go and sit in the same spot where he met the stranger. Or more where the stranger had ambushed him.

It’s a long way from the cabin but he sits near the boulders and stretches his legs, notebook in his lap.

After fifteen minutes of sitting there stupidly waiting, Steve runs his hands through his hair.

“What the fuck am I doing, Jesus!”

He flops back on the sand, arms spreading wide. The notebook is still blank, pencils are buried in the sand near his hip and his coffee mug is near empty next to him.

Steve debates if he should just sleep or close his eyes to replicate the state he was in yesterday. He groans and shakes his head as he gets up. “What the hell am I even-"

And he pauses when he notices someone peeking from behind one of the huge boulders that are half immersed in the sea water. When he squints, the said person hides.

“Hello?” Steve calls as he gets up.

He wipes his hands on his pants to get rid of the sand and when he looks up, he freezes.

It’s the stranger.

He’s in the water and looking Steve’s way. His right hand is still behind the huge rock. It’s like he was hiding there prior to Steve noticing.

Steve can’t see him clearly so he moves until the water touches his toes. Now he can see him. The shoulder-length black hair slicked back because of the water, the piercing eyes that are glinting and the most gorgeous face. And this time Steve is able to see his body. Well, his upper body and the guy is shirtless.

But glowing in a way and it's not even sunny. _Weird_.

The staring goes on before Steve realizes that the man won’t probably speak so he waves his hand and smiles slightly.

“Hi there.”

“Hello,” the guy says slowly.

And then he’s quiet again, apparently waiting for Steve to speak.

“Uh…you live around here?”

“Yes.”

“I was gonna say…” And Steve motions with his hand over the area. “This is a private area...property and I-“

“Humans don’t own the sea,” the stranger states firmly. His eyes though are curious and taunting Steve in a way.

 _Oh, he’s one of those_.

Getting nervous and embarrassed all of a sudden, Steve looks aside and lets out a nervous laugh. Scratching his head, he replies, “Yeah, no. That’s not what I meant…Uh…”

And when Steve looks back, he finds the guy is still staring his way. Waiting but not mad or upset.

 _Good_.

“Okay, let’s start over, what’s your name?” Steve asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

That gets the guy. He looks surprised. He swims back slightly, but doesn’t hide behind that boulder.

“Bucky.”

Steve smiles. “Bucky. Cool. My name is-"

“Steve. Your name is Steve,” Bucky answers quickly, smiling widely like he has solved a mystery.

“Uh…How…”

“I heard your beautiful beloved call you that.”

Steve is taken aback. “My beloved?”

“Yes. Your soulmate or your mate or…lover.” Bucky looks frustrated as he tries to explain. He’s looking at his fingers that are on the rocky surface. Steve squints and could’ve sworn that they shimmered or glinted.

Steve wants to tell him that he has no problem understanding the meaning of the word. It’s just it’s so forward of the guy to ask. But he decides to clear that up.

“She’s not my beloved. She’s a close friend.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, face brightened up, and swims closer.

The look Bucky gives Steve causes him to blush and feel his heart thud for a moment in his chest.

_What the hell?_

“Did your heart lighten? Today?” Bucky asks softly.

Steve feels speechless for the first time in a while. He gulps as he tries to gather his thoughts. “I don’t understand…”

“The seashells and rocks. I pray they did their job.”

Steve raises his brows in surprise. “Wait, that was you?”

Bucky nods enthusiastically. Steve doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t pay that much attention to them. So, he takes two more steps and notices that Bucky thankfully didn’t swim back. He has figured out by now that the guy must be shy. In general.

“What’s their job?”

“They lift the soul. Lighten the heart. Rids of weariness.”

“Oh.” And Steve is very touched that this stranger would go to this length to make him feel better. But how did this stranger know that he’s not in a good place? Could he have heard? From around here? Are people talking? But Steve doesn’t know anyone here.

“Yes, they’re beautiful.” He finds himself staring at Bucky. And for seconds he gets lost in how ethereal he looks.

“I’m glad.” Bucky smiles and Steve is positive that this guy is glowing.

Maybe his eyesight needs to be checked again. He’s due soon for his check up.

“Listen Bucky,” Steve starts in a slightly serious tone. He really needs to send the message across. “I just want to be clear about something. Up until that hill is a private property. You can’t just come and go as you please. Not just you, anybody…”

“But I’ve always swam around here. I enjoy this spot,” Bucky interjected, a frown forming on his face.

“Well, okay but-”

“No one is here.”

“Yes, but I’m here now. I’m gonna live here for a while and I just wanted-”

“You own the land but not the sea. Definitely not the sea,” Bucky says with finality in his tone of voice. He regards Steve with a defiant look but there’s hurt in his eyes. He turns and swims until he disappeared behind that boulder.

“Wait, Bucky…that’s not what I mean. I didn’t mean it like that…Bucky. Bucky!” Steve moves until the water is to his knees.

Steve then realizes that Bucky swam or maybe dived weirdly because he doesn’t come up. When Steve looks around, Bucky doesn’t come from behind the boulder on the other side. He thinks he might’ve decided to dive his way along the shore to the other side behind those boulders.

_Great, you scared away the first kind and gorgeous guy you’ve met in a while._

He sighs as he realized that he probably hurt the guy too. He walks back to his spot to pick up his stuff. He walks with a heavy heart to his cabin. And as soon as he steps on the porch, his eyes look for those seashells. He picks them up gently in his hands and takes them inside.

They end up on his nightstand.

 

~.~.~

 

Sleep doesn’t visit him that night and he goes to his old room. He sits there on the old small bed and looks around. The waves outside are crashing but not wildly. In a more calming way.

Steve doesn’t feel calm though and he scratches his head as he looks around. He decides to clean out the closet. His mom probably turned it into storage. And his assumption is right. Upon opening it, he finds so many boxes. They are old, and dusty.

Only some of them are labeled. A smile decorates his face as he sees the top one. It’s the vinyls.

“Oh my God…” He breathes softly as soon as he opens the box and sees the pile of albums inside.

He remembers them now. How his mom would put them on and dance on the porch and how he would stumble as he tries to dance with her. She has tried many times to teach him but he would always step on her bare toes.

Closing his eyes, he sees that smile. Her hand cupping his little face as she tells him to try again. Telling him she needed a dance partner and he should step up.

“I still can’t dance, ma,” he says now as he pulls out several albums.

He remembers Peggy’s words and how he should celebrate his mom. Think of her before the bad days. The days where he watched her die slowly on her death bed.

Steve takes a deep breath and goes down as he grabs one album which was his mom’s favorite. He tries to remember where he saw the record player. It’s good that he remembers what it looked like. It was vintage and brown colored. He can’t contain his excitement as he think about what’s going to happen. He will listen to his ma’s favorite music and reminisce. Putting the vinyl very slowly and carefully, he waits. He goes to the fridge and grabs a beer. He chuckles to himself as he listen to Howlin’ Wolf’s “Smokestack Lightning”.

Nodding his head to the music, he goes and open the windows. The combination of the sound of water and the Blues is electrifying. He laughs at himself when he tries to dance a bit with his stupid big feet. As always, he almost stumbles and falls on his face.

So he just drops his weight on the couch, puts his legs up on the coffee table and drinks his beer.

 

~.~.~

 

Steve goes the next day to buy some groceries. The market is close to his area, so he decides to walk all the way there. It gives him the time to ponder and clear his head. Thinking about Bucky has consumed his mind last night causing him restlessness. A walk in the small town is good. And just like Peggy said, it may do wonders.

And it turns out she’s right. The writer in him is up, observing and looking around. The people and kids seem friendly, laid back and going on in their lives. Of course eyes would linger on him a bit sensing he’s new to their town but they move along seconds after.

He gets into the market and buys the things he needs most. Upon seeing flowers outside the shop, he remembers his mother’s garden.

“Shit,” he whispers.

He pulls out his phone and sets up a reminder of googling about everything gardening. Plus, he shoots a text to Peggy asking for advice.

After getting everything he needs, he reaches the cashier and starts to put his stuff on the bar

“Why the long face?”

“Huh?” Steve raises his head. He smiles gently when he sees an old lady ringing his stuff.

She literally just leans over and touches his forehead with her finger. He smiles, flushing as he puts the basket away. “Sleepless night.”

“Yeah?”

And when she’s done ringing his items, Steve proceeds to put them in the bag himself, refusing for her to do it. Loud young men enter the store, laughing and joking. He glances their way and a thought comes to his mind.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

She shakes her head as she hands him his receipt.

“Do you know anyone around here who goes by the name Bucky?” Steve asks with hopefulness in his voice. He figures that if he could find him here, he’d apologize instead of waiting for him to show up. And Steve has a strong feeling that he won’t be seen around the beach anytime soon. The look of hurt on Bucky’s face flashes in his mind and he grits his teeth at his own stupidity.

The old lady tilts her hand aside in thought. “Bucky…Bucky…What kind of name is that?”

Steve chuckles a bit. “I don’t know to be honest. Must be short for something.”

“I’m sorry lad, never heard of a Bucky around here.”

Nodding his head in resignation, he picks up his bags and leaves the small place.

 

~.~.~

 

Later that night, and after Steve puts up his groceries, he checks the link Peggy has sent him through e-mail. There is a list of places where he could go that Peggy swears are the best in helping in all things gardening.

He saves all the pages on his laptop, then opens a Word document.

Twenty minutes go by with the cursor still at the beginning of a blank page. He huffs and slams the laptop shut before springing upstairs. He heads for the boxes and picks up a Nat King Cole album. He smiles warmly as he runs back downstairs to play it.

As soon as the beautiful music starts, Steve closes his eyes and just remembers. He used to tell his ma that this was his favorite song after she told him it was hers.

 

**Siempre que te pregunto**

**Que cuándo, cómo y dónde**

**Tú siempre me respondes**

 

He sways to the music a bit on his feet and tries to remember his ma’s instructions on how to slow dance.

“Jesus, I’m still the worst,” he huffs out.

He goes and opens the windows again and it’s amazing. The noises around him are heaven to his ears.

 

**Quizas Quizas Quizas**

 

The melody and Nat King Cole's enchanting voice fill the cabin. That, combining with the waves of the sea outside, calms him. So Steve finds himself grabbing his notebook to maybe try to write.

Nothing.

What he does instead is sketch. And it isn’t a generic sketch of something mundane.

No.

He finds himself sketching the face of Bucky.

 

~.~.~

 

Steve spends the next two days waiting for Bucky to show up. He’d visit the same spot, call loudly for him and then continue walking back home disappointed.

Four days have passed now and Steve can’t stop thinking about Bucky. About how he hurt his feelings and how poorly he handled the situation. Steve has never hurt anyone before and it bothers him that he did that to the first person who’s been nice to him since he got here. He’s a strange guy but kind nonetheless.

So, he does the only thing that he thinks might help in reaching Bucky somehow. Steve starts thinking. Bucky, so far, has always appeared out of nowhere. The common thing or link is water. He’s always been in the water one way or another.

And in the water Steve decides to go.

He discards his sweater and pants and goes in wearing just his boxers. Starting from the point where Bucky talked to him that morning, he swims and swims. He doesn’t stop one second. He continues to swim further and further until he can barely see the shore.

Out of breath, and certainly out of practice, Steve pauses to take deep breaths. Droplets of water get into his eyes and he rubs them with the back of his hand.

“You shouldn’t swim too far.”

Steve whips his head around and sees Bucky behind him. Not too close but not too far either. There is a very somber look on his face. Steve didn’t like that. He needs to change it but Bucky speaks again.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Bucky...”

“The territory ahead is not for humans.”

_Why does he talk like this?_

Apparently, he doesn’t say what he’s been meaning to say quick enough for Bucky turns around to swim away.

“No, Bucky wait!” and Steve flings himself and reaches out, touching Bucky shoulder to stop him. The movement not only surprises Bucky but shocks him as well.

Steve jerks back as something brushes his leg. “Shit, you’re probably right. Lotta fish around here.”

Bucky doesn’t respond and instead has this very apprehensive look. He looks almost terrified.

“Listen Bucky…I didn’t mean what I said before. I don’t even know how…” and he makes the mistake of looking at Bucky. Really looking. He’s almost shining in the sun. There are some parts of his skin that are almost glimmering. Some bluish and greenish spots are near his collarbone. _They must be tattoos_ , he thinks. But he is very beautiful. And Steve can’t think beyond that which in turn makes him stumble on his next words.

“Uh…I just thought with you swimming around here, it might give other people, kids, you know, the feeling of being entitled to be around and-“

“You can rest, Steve. I have decided not to be close to your shore anymore,” Bucky states in a determined yet sad voice.

“No, no. Please. I don’t mind you.”

Bucky frowns. “But I don’t understand.”

_Great, explain yourself now Rogers._

He huffs out a laugh as he looks anywhere to avoid the sharp, observant eyes of the guy swimming in front of him. Rubbing the wet back of his neck, he tries again.

“I mean you’re okay. I don’t mind your company. You can…you’re welcome to wander because…I like you.”

_Oh my God! What the fuck is wrong with me?_

He feels his face flush and wants more than anything to sink to the bottom of the sea and not let Bucky see him.

“Okay.”

“What?” Steve looks his way this time and his breath hitches as he witnesses the mesmerizing smile of the guy.

“Let’s see who gets to shore first,” Bucky announces before turning around and diving his way there.

“That’s not fair. Hey!”

Steve springs into swimming as fast as he can over water. He can’t see Bucky come up and that jars him a bit. So he goes under for a change but secretly to check on the guy. And there’s no sign of him.

When he goes up to continue swimming there, he pauses and coughs in surprise when he sees Bucky waving his arm and laughing Steve’s way.

_How the hell…?_

When he reaches Bucky, he finds him leaning on that favorite boulder of his and chuckling. His laugh does something to Steve's heart. It's almost melodious.

“I win!”

“Not fair. You started…" Steve gasps as he wipes his face. "I gotta ask, are you a diver? Like a professional one?”

Bucky frowns at him as he puts his hand on that boulder he likes to hide behind. He purses his lips and then gnaws on the bottom one and Steve can’t help but stare for seconds at that mouth.

The water getting in his nose jolts him back to act proper and not like a creep. “Or maybe a professional swimmer…It’s just you’re very fast.”

“It’s all I know. It’s my life really,” Bucky admits softly, his eyes back on his hand as he’s moving it across the rocky surface.

Steve observes him and Bucky has this forlorn look on his face. He clears his throat and smiles his way.

“Come on,” Steve says as he swims past Bucky.

“Steve?” Bucky asks confusedly.

Finally Steve feels the ground underneath his feet. The water is making it hard for him to walk but when he finally reaches shore, he looks for his sweater and pants. He quickly puts his pants on and sweater for he suddenly feels very much aware of Bucky’s eyes on him which makes him blush.

When he turns around, his smile falls. “Bucky?”

He’s still sticking to that damned rock. “Yes?” 

And it dawns on Steve why he’s hesitant. He chuckles as he smooths down the sweater over his wet skin.

“Bucky, you don’t have to take what I said that morning literally. True, this is a private property but you’re allowed to walk around. I told you…” and he pauses when he sees the horrified look on Bucky’s face.

“Bucky?” Steve finds himself taking several steps into the water.

Bucky is shaking his head slowly then fast. “No, I can’t.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” Bucky looks behind him and then back at Steve. “I need to return home.”

Steve nods. “Oh, Okay.”

“I wish I could,” Bucky whispers and Steve hears it. He wants to ask for an elaboration but it feels intrusive.

“Okay, raincheck?”

“What?”

“Maybe some other time then? We can get a cup of coffee. I mean, I make a mean cup...” Steve fails to hide the hopefulness in his voice. Suddenly he feels this insistent urge to get to know the guy. Peggy had said to meet new people. He finds himself wanting to.

It hits him how sad Bucky’s smile is. He gives Steve a very hesitant nod before swimming back and disappearing around the boulder.

Steve stands there feeling very…confused.

“Did I say something wrong?” he whispers to himself.

He grabs his running shoes and walks back to the cabin and every few seconds he would look back just in case he catches a glimpse of Bucky. When it seems hopeless, he makes his way home, praying he didn't blow it once again.

 

And that night, he works on three sketches of Bucky.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of the lyrics:
> 
> I am always asking you  
> When, how and where  
> You always tell me  
> Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
> 
>  
> 
> Here are the two songs that are mentioned:
> 
> [Smokestack Lightnin' by Howlin' Wolf](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Ri7TcukAJ8)
> 
> [Qiuzas Qiuzas Qiuzas by Nat King Cole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rDGgUGBD-90)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> RIP Chuck Berry

 

 

 

Two days pass by and Steve is busy gardening. His mother’s dead flowers are no more and it’s looking promising.

Peggy was right. All the places he visited were so helpful, especially the people. After buying all the equipment, flowers and plants needed, and watching YouTube videos for beginners, he was set to go.

And now with his hands deep in the soil, planting newly bought flowers and seeds, his eyes catch the calm sea. It’s been so calm these past two days.

It makes him think of Bucky.

Steve hasn’t visited that spot. Something about the look Bucky gave him that day signaled that he really didn’t want to be offered ‘to hang out’ again. It kinda stings when he thinks about it. Is his company that dreadful? Is he that moody and gloomy?

He sits back on his heels and wipes the sweat off his forehead. “Maybe I shouldn’t read too much into it.”

Steve then makes up his mind and decides to go there tomorrow and try to be more cool about it. The last thing he wants to do is trouble or annoy someone or bother them.

After doing a humble and satisfying job on gardening, he heads inside to clean up.

 

~.~.~

 

That night, he's still up. Restless. And thirty minutes later he’s sitting in front of his laptop. The cursor is blinking and there’s nothing that comes to mind. He thinks of an idea and goes to play another album of Nat King Cole again.

“Come on, please help a guy out,” he whispers to the vinyl.

He’s hoping that with the enchanting romantic voice of Mr. Cole himself he can write something. That his fingers would type nonstop.

The songs play and he’s still stuck.

“Fuck!” And Steve slams the laptop shut.

He goes and flops onto the couch. His sketchbook is discarded on the coffee table and he eyes it. Seconds later, he snatches it and starts sketching. His fingers are working on their own as they draw the boulder and the gorgeous man hiding behind it.

The ringtone of his cell phone jolts him. Putting his hand over his chest, he checks if his heart is still there. Sighing after the scare, he scrambles to get it. Picking up his iPhone, he sits back straight, sketchbook placed on the couch.

It’s Nat.

“Jesus, why do you always choose the wrong time to call?” He asks, a bit irritated.

“Uh, hey.”

And it’s not Nat. Whoever is on the other end of the line isn’t his friend. It’s a man’s voice.

Steve frowns and stands up. Ready to fight. “Who the heck is this?”

“Relax buddy. It’s Clint. Nat’s fiancé.”

“Oh.” Steve blushes, feeling foolish. “Sorry. Uh, hey. Is Nat okay?” Then he feels his heartbeat quicken. He really, really doesn’t want anything bad to happen again in his life. Not to his friends. Not to anyone.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s fine,” Clint replies.

And it’s only then that Steve notices that the guy’s whispering. He frowns in confusion.

“Listen,” Clint starts. “I’m calling you because you gotta help me out.”

“Um, okay.” Steve has never met the guy, doesn’t even know what he looks like. It’s surprising that he’d go to Steve for whatever problem he’s having.

“She doesn’t want a ring. Who doesn’t want a ring when getting married? Who Steve?”

Steve, for lack of a better comeback, laughs out loud. He sits down, rests his back on the couch and tries to stop.

It’s totally expected of Nat.

“Yeah, laugh Steve,” Clint says with a clipped tone. “Laugh all you want but I’m giving her a ring. It’s already in my room.”

Steve wipes the tears in his eyes and takes a sip of the beer he forgot about on the table. “What do you expect me to do? I’m all the way in Ireland.”

“Just talk to her for God’s sake! She keeps hinting and then gave up and told me -right in my face- that she doesn’t wanna wear a ring.”

“How do you think I could convince her-"

“Clint? Clint?” Nat’s voice in the background reaches him and Steve cringes for the poor guy. Nat sounds livid. “Is that my…What are you doing with my phone?”

_He’s about to be murdered and I will be a…witness?_

“Hey honey,” Clint says cheerfully.

Then Steve feels the phone being fought over and he covers his eyes in embarrassment for the two.

“Give me my-"

“Steve please talk to her!!” Clint is shouting. And then he’s groaning.

“That suits you mister,” Nat says and she’s breathing right into Steve’s ear.

“Nat?” Steve frowns in concern.

“I’m here. I just kicked him in the balls.”

“Jesus, you two are so weird.”

“He’s the weirdo that would call you without even knowing you. I’m sorry Steve…”

“Nah, it’s okay." He finds himself really touched that Clint reached out to him. "So what’s wrong with you?”

“Me?” Her shrill voice surprises him for a second and he pulls the phone away from his ear.

“Yes. I’ve never heard about a woman who refused a ring, Nat.”

“I’m not any other woman, Rogers, and you should know that better than anybody.”

He sighs and then stands up to pace. She’s getting upset and he doesn’t want that to happen.

“Listen, it’s nothing but a symbol of love. Commitment.”

“You said it yourself, it’s nothing but a symbol. It’s a stupid-“

“Nat, you’re a part of a partnership now. Obviously he doesn't see it as a stupid thing. He wants to give it to you.”

She’s quiet.

“You gotta compromise some day. You’re not on your own. And I can tell from the few minutes I was with him on the phone that he truly adores you.”

“He did defy all things and proposed,” she mutters.

He smiles. “Exactly. But he clearly didn’t take his balls into consideration.”

“I did think of cutting them off that day.”

They both chuckle and then he hears a door close at her end. She must have moved to another room. “Steve?”

It hits him how vulnerable she sounds. “I’m here,” he answers softly.

“It’s not literally about the ring. I’m just…scared. I’ve never been attached to anyone this quickly and seriously and…you’re not here fucker so…”

“Nat, take a deep breath, okay? And sit down because I can picture you right now pacing with your finger twirling your hair.”

It’s quiet and then she mutters, “I sat down.”

“Tell me why you said yes,” he prompts gently as he walks out of the cabin to stand on the porch.

She sighs loudly. “He…He makes me feel light, you know? He makes me laugh and...I see life differently when I’m around him. The world seems slightly better with him around.”

He almost tears up at the admission. He’s been friends with her for years. Since freshman year in college and she never sounded so affected.

“Then what’s a ring, huh?”

She huffs and Steve feels like she probably flopped back onto the bed. “I hate you.”

He laughs and moves to head back inside. “Love you too.”

“Hey, wait. What’s that sound you got there?”

“Oh, it’s the sea. I was-"

“No, music. Wait, are you…Is that Nat King Cole?” She sounds shocked.

Taunting is ahead. Steve feels it.

The song of "Unforgettable" is playing now and Steve curses internally.

 

_**How the thought of you does things to me** _

_**Never before has someone been more** _

_**Unforgettable in every way** _

 

Of all the songs, Steve thinks as he rubs his face. “Uh, yeah. I found-“

“Did you meet someone?” She asks eagerly.

“What?” He lets out in an almost shrill. “No, that’s not-“

“I know you, Rogers. You listen to old music when you either meet someone or write something.”

“Well, I’m still having a writer’s block-“

“Oh my God! So you met someone. No wonder you were just preaching about compromising-“

He holds the area between his eyes, trying not to snap. But he fails. “Nat, stop! I found my mom’s vinyl records. I’ve been playing them.”

“Oh.”

Nat is then quiet and Steve feels his heart beat loudly. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“Sorry, Steve.”

“It’s okay.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. You can go back to lecturing me about commitment if you want.”

He chuckles slightly and then hears Clint’s loud voice. “Nat, come on!”

Nat huffs out in frustration. “I gotta go. I swear he’s like a puppy.”

“Okay.” Steve nods. “Be nice.”

“No promises.”

They hang up but not before Steve hears the mischief in her voice. He smiles and plays with his phone between his hands as he purses his lips.

Looking around, he realizes it’s late and goes to turn everything off. He goes upstairs. As he stands at the door of the room, his eyes land on the seashells.

A crazy idea comes to him. That maybe if he goes outside and walks on shore, he’ll- accidentally- bump into Bucky.

“That’s crazy, Steve,” he mutters loudly to himself. “Who’d swim at this hour?”

Nevertheless, five minutes later, he finds himself going downstairs and walking out the door. When he’s at the porch, he hovers there. Debating if he should go or not. If what he’s about to do makes him look crazy or silly.

Maybe his talk with Nat energized him.

He goes back and grabs his phone. He needs some light if he’s gonna head out there. It's dark and looking up at the sky, the moon isn’t visible this night. So, he decides to rely on the flashlight in the phone.

Steve ends up walking along the shore, barefoot, in his sweatpants and hoodie. It’s a bit windy.

Deep down, he knows that he’s being irrational. Why would Bucky be there? At night?

But the thought of seeing that ethereal face...

Steve shakes his head and rolls his shoulders. He’s just going for a walk and if Bucky happens to be swimming then that’s just a coincidence.

In that moment, he realizes that he’s behaving like a kid who has a new crush.

_It's not. I'm just taking a walk, if he's there then it's a plus!_

Steve finally reaches their usual spot. But this time, with the darkness, it feels ominous. Lonely and quiet. Even the sea is quiet. He inhales deeply and tries not to look nervous. His phone is pressed against his hand, digging into his skin.

When he calms down a bit, he huffs out a breath. "I swear to God...What am I doing? I'm ridiculous."

He shakes his head and then goes to leave but pauses. He's already here. The sea looks so calm and almost still. His eyes find the boulder that Bucky seems to love to hide behind. He looks down and pockets his cell phone, rolls his sweat pants up above his knees and steps into the water. He hisses at the coldness of it. It's freezing and he quickly climbs the boulder. Luckily, it’s not slippery. When he settles himself, he doesn't fix his pant legs. Leaving his legs exposed, he pulls out his cell phone and hugs his bent knees to himself.

It takes him minutes before deciding to do a really stupid and silly thing. He raises the hand holding up the cell phone and waves it a bit to look around. The flashlight isn't that strong but he can at least see his surroundings.

There's no Bucky. Not around or in the water like usual.

Steve scolds himself internally. There's no way he would be swimming at this hour. Plus, the guy isn't probably thinking about him.

He looks up at the sky and the clouds clear up revealing the half full moon. Seconds later and he can finally see his surroundings without the flashlight. But he points his cell phone down to see the water when he shamefully yelps out loud as he sees Bucky in the water, looking up at him.

He's under Steve's feet now, almost plastered to the rock.

"Jesus! You scared the shit outta me," Steve breathes.

Bucky looks confused and then apologetic but doesn't say anything.

Steve takes him in. Bucky is the same. Shirtless in this cold water yet looks more ethereal than before. Than in sunlight. This is the first time he sees him in the night. Steve feels his breath catches.

He's never seen anyone like him before.

"Are you ill?"

"Wh...what?" Steve is still not over the glowing sculpted body of Bucky.

Bucky's brows knit together and leans on the rock, looking up at Steve. "Are you not well?"

Steve's heart leaps into his throat. _How does he know? Is he that intuitive?  
_

"Why do you think that?"

Bucky shrugs and then swims away a bit. "You don't come out at this hour."

Steve smirks in spite of it. "You've been watching me."

Bucky, for the first time, blushes and looks down. Then he sinks until only his eyes and forehead are visible. Steve smiles fondly and spares him by asking, "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

Bucky then goes up the surface again. "Swimming."

"Yes, I can see that, but at this hour?"

Bucky swims around in circles and splashes. "Couldn't sleep."

"You can't be enjoying this cold water. It’s freezing."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

And he holds his breath when Bucky leans on the rock, stretches his hand up and holds Steve's foot. The action doesn't shock him; it's the warmth of the hand. _How can he be so warm?_

"See?"

Bucky’s eyes are enchanting and mesmerizing. Steve can't look away. But when the staring intensifies between them, he looks down and chuckles nervously. And that's when Bucky pulls his hand away and Steve is already missing the warmth. He moves and sits Indian style.

"But seriously...you couldn't sleep?" Steve asks, curious.

Bucky shrugs and then looks in the direction of the cabin. "Do you sing?"

The question catches Steve off guard. "I'm sorry?"

"I heard music." Bucky smiles at him.

"Oh, yeah." Steve laughs a bit. "No, that wasn't me. Can you imagine? No. I was playing some records. They're my mom's. She loves that genre of music. You know, old stuff."

Bucky swims closer, face eager. "Is she here? I haven't seen anyone here but you and ... your friend."

Steve's face falls for seconds and then clears his throat. He remembers how he forgot and used the present tense earlier. "No. She...she passed away three months ago."

"Oh," Bucky mutters softly. Then Steve feels his hand on his leg again, patting twice. "I'm sorry. Now I know."

Steve can't take the tenderness and sympathy because he'll cry and he certainly doesn't want to be embarrassed in front of him.

“How?” Bucky asks.

No one has been that blunt and forward with him regarding his mother. It’s unsettling but refreshing. He clears his throat and looks down only to find the compassion and affection in Bucky’s eyes and blurts out, “Cancer. Pancreatic cancer.”

A confused look crosses Bucky’s face and Steve inhales slowly as he explains, “It’s a disease. Very aggressive. It attacked her body very quickly and she was gone in a month.”

After that Bucky remarks, "I'm sorry you had to feel this loss.”

"So, anyway-"

"I lost my sister and my mother in the same year," Bucky confesses softly. There’s sadness in his eyes that breaks Steve’s heart.

"Oh." And Steve wants to hold him or his hand but finds himself immobile. The information is too much for him. Bucky swims back a bit and looks at the water for seconds too long. Steve clears his throat. "I'm sorry, Bucky. I can't imagine how that must've felt."

Bucky is not looking his way but at the sea behind him. Then he turns back toward Steve and smiles sadly. “My sister fell in love with a fisherman. She wanted to be with him but father forbade it. She didn't listen and ran away with him but…”

Bucky scratches his head and the droplets of water on his arm look like pearls. Steve is astonished for seconds at the visual before he tunes back in to hear what Bucky is saying. “No one told me what happened but the ending to that story is that he was the cause of her death.”

“Oh my God,” Steve utters in an almost whisper.

Bucky shrugs, resigned. “It was a long time ago. I was very little. But I do remember my mother not being the same after. She died of a broken heart.”

“I’m so sorry Bucky. It must’ve been too difficult for your mother.”

Bucky swims closer to Steve, looking up, as if confessing. “That is why my father is very protective of me. I’m his youngest. He…he doesn’t know I swim around here.”

That takes Steve by surprise. He frowns as he asks, “Aren’t you old enough to-“

“I come from a …a very prominent family. Our actions should be much more calculated.”

The frown doesn’t leave Steve’s face. That still doesn't excuse his father's orders. He purses his lips and seconds later he says, “But how…I don’t see how you coming here-”

Bucky interrupts, “So, is that why you couldn’t sleep?”

“Huh?”

“Your mother?”

The message is clear. Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it and looking at his face right now, Steve can’t help but grant his wishes. He tightens his arms around his knees.

“Uh, no. No, it’s uh…” He lets out a chuckle as he scratches his temple. “My friend just called me. It’s a funny story actually.”

“Oh, I love funny anecdotes.” Bucky claps in excitement. “Almost everyone I know is serious.”

“Well, see, my friend just got engaged to be married but doesn’t want to wear a ring.”

Bucky frowns. “Why?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. She’s scared a bit and the idea is probably making her realize that it’s reality. That it’s getting serious. She's unconsciously afraid.”

Bucky smiles and he has a faraway look on his face. “Where I come from, we don’t give rings.”

“Oh?” Steve doesn’t get it. The same way he doesn't get why he looked confused at the word 'Cancer.'

_Does he come from that of a different culture?_

But Steve isn't a rude person, so he won't ask.

“We give necklaces. Pearl necklaces. One must find pure pearls to put around his or her beloved’s neck. Both of them should wear one. So if one sees them, they know they’re mated for life.”

Steve holds his breath at the beauty of the idea and innocence but more so because of the look on Bucky’s face while explaining that custom of theirs. He’s been just assured by that pure look on Bucky’s face that the guy is a romantic.

After clearing his throat, Steve nods twice. “That’s more beautiful than the traditional one.”

Bucky swims a bit closer now that if Steve stretches his hand down, he’d touch the top of his head.

Bucky’s hand moves over the rock as if smoothing it. “I think so too.”

The wind picks up a bit and Steve shivers a little. “How are you not cold?”

Bucky looks up with laughter in his gorgeous eyes. He shrugs one shoulder and then looks excited.

“Are your friends here?” Bucky asks enthusiastically.

Steve shakes his head, smiling. “No, they’re back home.”

“Oh.”

“What about you? Any friends around here? Swimming with ya? Probably failing to race ya?” Steve smirks his way.

Bucky blushes and moves his hands over the water as if caressing it. There is a certain way that Bucky behaves with the water itself. Steve is puzzled by it.

“I do. I have friends. But they don’t like to swim around here.”

“Really? Why?”

Bucky raises a brow. “You said it’s a private property.”

Steve feels his face reddens and covers it with one hand in shame. “I’m sorry. They can come here if they want. A friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

He is surprised by his own admission and that he really means it. Thankfully, Bucky is not weirded out by Steve’s sudden full trust.

Instead, Bucky smiles sadly. “They won’t anyway.”

“Why?” Steve asks, concerned.

Bucky seems to be struggling to form what he’s about to say. He opens his mouth twice before finally starts, “I- they don’t…“

And he pauses as he knits his brows. He looks in distress. Steve sits straight and untangles his arms from around his legs. Again, ready to defend and fight.

Bucky ducks his head under water for seconds and then springs up to the surface, swiping his wild wet hair back. “It’s…I have to go.”

Steve slides from the rock to the side, feet in the water. The waves are starting to get wild, pushing Steve away a bit and making him unbalanced. He supports himself with a hand on the rock while trying to reach Bucky with his other one.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

Bucky seems distraught. “It’s my father. He’s distressed. I have to go.” Then before turning around, he points at the cabin’s direction. “Go back, Steve. The sea won’t be calm. It’s coming. The waves are going to crash here.”

And then without any other word or a glance at Steve, he swims away and Steve takes two heavy steps in the water trying to keep sight of Bucky but darkness and the water engulfs him.

The waves are getting stronger and Steve walks back until his feet touches dry sand and he’s safely away from the water. Looking back at the sea, it isn’t the one that was peacefully calm mere minutes ago.

He waits for few minutes, not really knowing what to think. They were just hanging out and having a nice conversation.

But that look on Bucky’s face. He looked almost terrified.

Steve looks around, strains his ears. There isn’t anyone around. How did Bucky know that his father…

“Does he have a sixth sense?” He asks himself.

The sound of crashing waves against the boulders jerks him back from his thoughts. Remembering Bucky’s instructions, he wraps his arms around himself as he heads to the cabin in hurried steps.

 

~.~.~

 

The next morning finds Steve with a headache. He is still in bed. Sleep wasn’t kind to him last night. Only visited him for few hours. He lies there in thought. His mind wanders to things. Everything with Bucky and the weird storm that sprung up on them. How he enjoyed talking to the guy. How his face …

“Jesus! You can’t be falling for the guy,” Steve groans to himself as he covers his face. He inhales deeply and pulls himself up. “It’s the artist talking, that’s all.”

The window catches his eye and he almost falls with the bed sheets wrapped around him. The storm didn't stop when he was trying to sleep. He wants to check now if it had passed.

Opening the small shabby curtain, he finds the sea to be still and calm. The sky is clear. A breath of relief rushes out of his lungs. He turns quickly, stumbling and hitting his knee on the edge of the bed.

“Shit!”

He quickly puts on his jogging shorts and running shoes, forgetting to put on a sweater. Dashing out of the cabin, he runs his way to the familiar spot. Jogging isn’t on his mind. He wants to see Bucky and check on him after last night and whatever happened to his father.

Steve finds himself running and running.

As soon as he reaches the area where the boulders are, his eyes scan the water surface. His heart falls a little at not finding Bucky there, swimming around. He gulps and slows down when the area seems to be dead quiet.

He walks the rest of the way there, doesn’t want to look desperate or scary or clingy. When minutes pass by without a sign of Bucky, Steve jumps on the same rock he was sitting on last night. He stands there, hands on hips as his eyes roam around.

There are no boats, nobody on the other side of the shore and in that moment, Steve frowns at a strange thought. There are no cabins in the distance on the other side. Why would Bucky swim all the way here and not even step on shore?

_He can’t be doing that for your company, Rogers._

He flushes nonetheless and shakes his head. Sighing, he jumps back on the ground and walks his way back, turning once in a while to check. 

But there's no sign of him.

 

~.~.~

 

It isn't until the next day when he’s sketching, sitting on sand a bit away from that boulder, that Bucky appears.

Steve gasps a bit. The way he appears is always out of the blue. No sound and no warning.

“Hey,” Steve breathes and drops his stuff aside. He stands up and walks toward him until his feet are underwater. “Is everything okay? You didn’t show up yesterday and…”

Bucky moves a bit back and Steve stops moving. He has thought they’re past this. That after last night, he'd finally come out of the water and join him. For a walk maybe.

But Steve keeps his distance.

There is a bit of a somber look on Bucky. “Yeah.”

“And your father? Is he okay?” Steve asks, hands in pockets.

Bucky sighs in relief. “Yes. It was just a shark attack.”

Steve gapes at him. “Oh my God. Is he alright?”

Bucky raises his brows. “He wasn’t attacked.”

“Oh,” Steve mutters, relieved.

Bucky snickers. “As if they’d stand a chance against my father.”

This time it’s Steve who raises his brows. _What?_

Bucky shakes his head as his hands play with the water. “There was a close attack on my uncle and father was upset because he didn’t stay away from their territory as per the rules.”

Steve is really trying his best to wrap his head around this. Sometimes he wonders if he’s imagining most of his conversations with Bucky. Or imagining Bucky for that matter.

“Okay." Steve smiles. "Well, I’m glad he’s fine.”

“I’m glad too.” Then Bucky's eyes glance at Steve’s stuff. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, just sketching.”

“What’s that?” Bucky supports himself on the rock as he cranes his neck to look past Steve.

“I draw, sketch. I mean I should be writing but…” Steve scratches his head. “Writer’s block, you know.”

Bucky purses his lips and then looks up and down at Steve. “What do you do?”

“You mean my job?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a writer,” Steve answers and realizes he’s never told him that. So he sits down, his pants are wet now but it doesn’t matter. If Bucky feels more comfortable in water, then so be it.

“A writer. You narrate stories?”

Steve chuckles a bit. “Yeah. I write fiction. Suspense and mystery.”

“Oh, wow,” Bucky mutters in total awe.

Steve adds, “I draw sometimes too.”

“Can I see?” Bucky asks shyly and Steve feels his heart thud in his chest at the look on that face.

Not being able to object, he gets up and makes his way to his previous spot and grabs the book. When he returns, he gives a sheepish smile. He doesn’t even try to ask him to come to shore. He tried that once and it backfired. Steve resigns to the idea that Bucky may have some sort of insecurities about his body or something even though he thinks that Bucky looks amazing. But he’ll give him his own space. His time. Steve will not make him uncomfortable again.

“Here you go,” Steve says as he walks in the water up to his waist and hands over the sketchbook. He’s very glad that it’s a new one or else he’d die of mortification if Bucky sees his own face on the pages.

“Oh, Steve,” Bucky gasps.

Steve rubs the back of his neck and he feels it’s getting warm by the second. “It’s nothing.”

“No. You recreate people on paper. That’s amazing.” Bucky looks up at him in admiration and Steve feels his cheeks burn.

“Uh, I’ve never heard someone describe it like that before.”

“Oh, no,” Bucky looks horrified all of a sudden as he looks at the papers between his hands. “I ruined it. With water. It’s melting!”

Steve smiles. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. They’re just drawings.”

And when Bucky looks up, Steve feels his gut drop and he stills at the fear that is showing on Bucky’s face. There are tears swimming in those eyes.

“Bucky, no. It’s okay. Look,” and Steve dips his hand in the water and then grabs his booklet with it, smearing his earlier sketch. “See? It’s okay. I have others.”

Bucky nods and sighs in relief. Steve smiles at him to reassure him.

“Can you draw anything?” he asks hesitantly.

“Sure. Why? You have requests?” Steve raises his brow.

Bucky swims back away from Steve, not breaking eye-contact. “Yes.”

Steve nods and walks back to shore until he reaches his pencils. He sits down, grimacing a bit at the sand getting inside his pants.

He doesn’t expect the answer he gets.

“Draw yourself.”

Steve looks up and finds Bucky half hiding behind the rock. “I’m sorry?”

“Can you draw yourself?” And then Bucky sinks until only his eyes are watching Steve.

The scene before him makes Steve chuckle. He shakes his head and opens to a new and dry page. He pulls up his sleeves and grabs on of the charcoal pencils.

“Is that a challenge? Are you challenging me? ‘cause let me tell ya. I can do that actually.”

Bucky shrugs and sinks fully in the water. Steve shakes his head and starts. He sketches the cabin and part of the shore. He positions his own profile, sitting there on the beach sketching near a boulder. He leaves the facial expressions a bit shadowed and just focuses on his posture and limbs.

He thinks of adding Bucky but changes his mind. This was the guy’s request and Steve will show him that he can do that. Part of him is wanting to show off his capabilities. To impress him.

_Wait! Stop thinking like that, Rogers._

Twenty minutes go by with him sketching diligently and Bucky swimming around the area.

“Done,” Steve announces loudly. He waves his hand to get Bucky’s attention and sees the guy smile widely and swims back until he reaches the rock.

“Can you leave it there?” Bucky asks with a tight smile.

Steve pauses for a bit before nodding. He looks back and then at the rock. “On the sand or the rock?”

“A place where water won’t get it. I…uh…I’m waiting for my hands to dry to look at it.”

Steve is trying really, really hard not to just blurt out why. Again, the guy probably has his reasons and he looks so shy Steve wants to obey whatever he wanted just to make him at ease.

“Let me show it to you then,” Steve says, walking to the water. It reaches mid thigh and he doesn’t care that it’s freezing. He tries not to shiver and succeeds.

“Oh my,” Bucky breathes and reaches with his finger but retreats before touching the paper. “It looks like what was just happening right now.”

“Thanks.”

“You are a magician.”

A laugh escapes Steve as he turns red in the face. “Please. Hardly.”

They just stand there.

“I want to keep it," Bucky says before he looks up and adds quickly, “Unless you…”

“No, no. Go ahead." Steve rips it carefully and hands it over to Bucky who clutches it very carefully around the edges. "I can sketch something else better than my profile if you want.”

“No. This is perfect.”

Steve flushes to the roots of his hair and casts his eyes aside, feeling the burning gaze of Bucky. The fact that he wants to keep a sketch of Steve makes his heart flutter and he doesn't know what to say.

He rubs the back of his neck and is about to offer something else when Bucky says, “Can you show me other sketches?”

Steve nods and opens a few pages and a sketch of Nat and Sam appears. “These two are my friends. Closest ones to my heart.”

“Oh. She’s pretty. Is she the one who’s betrothed?” Bucky looks up at Steve waiting for confirmation.

Steve hums and points at her hair. “By the way, she’s has a fiery red hair. I rarely use colors.”

Bucky’s free hand, not holding the sketch of Steve, points at Sam. “And him?”

“He’s my agent.”

“What does that mean?”

Steve tilts his head, thinking. He’s never had to explain it before but it's Bucky and his strange questions. “He makes sure I write, let’s just put it this way.”

“Is he…” Bucky frowns deeply at the paper, looking closely at it. “Is he your beloved?”

“What?” Steve chuckles the word out and sobers up when he realizes that Bucky is still frowning and studying Sam.

“No, Bucky. He’s not.”

Bucky hums but doesn’t seem relaxed and Steve’s heart flutters at the reaction. He finds himself leaning closer and confessing softly, “I’m single. I don’t have a…” And Steve smiles at what he’s about to say next. “A beloved.”

And it’s in that moment that he realizes that they are standing closer than earlier for Bucky looks up at him with those mesmerizing eyes. Steve looks into them. Grey-blue and somehow changes colors and he’s not sure if he’s seeing what he’s seeing. Then he feels the closeness. What jars isn’t the serene moment they're sharing. It’s the hopeful and happy look on Bucky’s face.

_This is all ‘cause he knew I’m single. Could it be possible he's interested?_

Then suddenly Bucky’s face falls and sadness overshadows his beautiful features. Steve is taken aback by the swift change that he gets worried.

“What is it Bucky?” He whispers it for fear of scaring Bucky.

Bucky shakes his head and swims slowly backwards and away from him. “It’s time for me to leave.”

“Oh. Okay.” Steve hides his disappointment by smiling slightly and nodding his way. _Did I come on to him? What did just happen?_

“I’ll be around here.”

The way Bucky’s saying it sounds like a promise.

Steve is glad. “Okay.” 

He watches Bucky disappear from behind the rock, folded sketch in his hand.

Goosebumps break out across Steve's skin. “Shit.”

He gets back to shore, and hurriedly gathers his stuff to escape to the warmth of the cabin.

 

That night, Steve finds himself playing Cole’s Unforgettable on a loop.

 

~.~.~

 

The next day Steve wakes up to a loud banging on the door. It takes him few minutes to realize that there’s actually someone at his door. He scrambles up and glances at his phone. No missed calls. It's noon. He overslept

He strains his ears again and it’s back. Four knocks, pause and then four. Suddenly, it dawns on him that it could be Bucky. Finally coming out of the water.

He stumbles and falls as he pulls on his sweatpants. He doesn’t even bother with changing his ragged t-shirt. Padding downstairs and running to the door, he finally opens it. He never thought he'd see the people now standing behind it. Not this soon anyway.

It’s Peggy, her husband Daniel and little daughter Sarah.

“Hey!” It comes out like a shout and Peggy raises her brow at him.

“Quite the reception, Steve.”

He chuckles nervously and beckons them inside. “Hey, come in. Welcome. Sorry. Just woke up.”

Peggy gives him a hug while still juggling some bags she's carrying with her. Steve is afraid to ask. Then Daniel shakes his hand. “Hey, Steve. Sorry about her.” He points at Peggy. “She insisted we ambush you.”

“It’s always fun to ruin Steve's plans of the day," she offers jokingly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves Daniel off. “Good to see you man.”

“Same here. Good to see you well…and cheerful.”

Steve gives him a small smile and then crouches to the little girl. “Hey. How’s my favorite girl?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she says as she holds her father’s hand.

“Can I have a hug?” He asks, smiling genuinely first thing this morning.

Her eyes look past him at her mother and then she finally hugs him. Her little arms trying to go around his shoulders and failing. He laughs slightly and hugs her hard. The last time he saw her was when she was a toddler. He was visiting Peggy and Sousa in London for one of his book tours.

Now she's seven years old! And the fact that her name is Sarah warms his heart so much.

She pulls away and he taps her on the nose. “You know you’re named after my ma?”

“Yes. Mum told me. Can I see a photo of her?”

He's very surprised by the request. It takes Steve a second to realize that he has to go through his phone for a good picture. “Uh…”

“Sarah, honey-“ Daniel starts but Steve stops him.

“It’s okay. Here.” He logs into his phone and pulls up an old one photo. Before she got ill.

“She’s so pretty,” she mutters and then gives Steve his phone back.

“Thanks.”

“Alright you three." Peggy claps. "Let’s get inside yeah?”

“Can I play on your beach Mr. Steve?” She asks so innocently that Steve wants to hug her and cry.

“First of all, call me Steve. Second of all, yes you can.”

“Don’t, Steve. Not now,” Peggy says from the kitchen where she’s putting stuff Steve still hasn’t seen.

“Please mum!” she pleads with her hands clasped together.

“It’s my beach, Peggy,” Steve says cheekily and winks at Sarah. “Go.”

When Peggy sighs and motions for her to go, the kid squeals and leaves the cabin.

“Only ‘cause your place is secluded. Otherwise I’d have suffered through the sand,” Daniel says, pointing at his crutch.

“Don’t worry. It’s safe. No one is around.” And then Steve remembers Bucky. Looking at the clock on the wall, it’s way early for Bucky to show up.

He’s not sure he’s ready to introduce his friends to Bucky. Or talk about him. There’s a warmth that fills his heart at the thought that he gets to keep Bucky to himself. Like a sweet exciting secret.

“What’s the smile for?” Peggy asks as she comes to hand him and her husband two mugs of coffee.

“Nothing. Sarah should be fine. Bit chilly that’s all.”

They spend the afternoon catching up. Daniel and Peggy fill Steve in on everything London. How they’re going about their lives there. Peggy complains about her college students while her husband rolls his eyes at her and tells Steve that she’s the popular one while he’s not.

Time goes by and between laughter and telling anecdotes, it’s time for lunch and Peggy and Daniel insist they fix lunch this time. She'd brought groceries with her to do that. Steve goes upstairs to put on more presentable clothes. He puts on his newly washed jeans and a black t-shirt with a gray cardigan.

Before going downstairs, he stops by the closet and picks up a new album to listen to. He smirks as he sees his next choice.

As soon as he reaches the record player, he puts the vinyl carefully and waits for the sound of rock and roll. Chuck Berry’s "Johnny B Goode" fills the place and he hears the laughter of the couple in the kitchen.

He walks over to them and finds them dancing and he chuckles as he refills his mug with coffee. The crutch is put on the side and Daniel is putting all his energy just to dance with Peggy who giggles all throughout.

Steve notices that she makes sure Daniel doesn’t tire his leg and he feels his heart warm at the gesture.

“I knew I loved your mom for a reason,” Daniel yells out loud, laughing as he twirls Peggy.

Steve's mom loved Daniel so much. Called him an angel. Steve smiles at the memory and claps before picking up his mug and walking to the porch. He watches Sarah as she runs along the beach, stopping here and there to probably pick up seashells.

The record is still playing and he feels warm.

 

~.~.~

 

Two hours later and after insisting he sets the table, Steve is putting the last plate with the cutlery when Sarah comes barging in, her hands hugging something to her chest.

“Look! Look what he gave me!”

Steve frowns in confusion and then Daniel comes out of the kitchen, Peggy in tow as she puts on a trey of lasagna on the table.

“I’m sorry, did you say _he_?” her father asks, very concerned.

The little kid hurries to the coffee table, sits on her knees and lays out what is in her arms.

And Steve freezes.

They’re colorful seashells and rocks in different sizes and shapes.

“I thought you said there isn’t anyone here?” Daniel looks at Steve, apprehension on his face.

And Steve gets it. This is a father whose kid was just wandering around with no supervision, trusting Steve.

“Yeah.” Steve puts the stuff away, fork and spoon clattering on the plate. He guesses it’s time to reveal that he actually made a friend. “Relax guys. It’s a friend of mine.”

“A friend?” Peggy asks as she goes and sits by her daughter, hand rubbing her back.

Steve feels really awkward as the concerned parents look his way while the kid is trying her best not to burst in excitement.

“And guess what?” she asks the adults and without waiting for an answer, she blurts out, “He’s a merman!”

That’s when Peggy rolls her eyes and Daniel runs his hand through his hair, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You and your wild imagination, darling,” Peggy comments and then adds, “You should write with Steve.”

Steve on the other hand can’t think past what she said.

The two parents laugh and go back to the kitchen. Peggy pats his shoulder and whispers, “She picked seashells by herself. She likes to spin tales that one.” And winks his way.

“But it’s the truth! He’s a merman," Sarah says.

“Okay, sweetheart,” her father replies from inside the kitchen. “Go wash your hands.”

But Steve snaps out of it and quickly goes and sits next to her as he arranges her stuff on the coffee table. He knows for sure it was Bucky who gave her those. There is no way she could have found them on shore. The shore doesn’t keep such gems.

Could she have assumed he was a merman because he was in the water? Or did he just play a joke on her? Kids are imaginative, right?

But the kid looked really convinced when she said it earlier.

He gulps and touches her back lightly. “Hey Sarah, why would you say he’s a merman?”

“Because he showed me,” she says as she wiggles her brows at him.

Steve is really scared of what the answer to his next question is. This could even be someone who is not Bucky. “How? And what did he show you?”

“His tail, duh!” Then she turns fully to Steve, standing up by supporting herself on his shoulder to get up. “Oh my God Steve. It’s so beautiful. It’s so blue and green at the same time! And then he goes,” and she moves away from the coffee table to the little space between the couch and the chair. “I didn’t believe it until I saw it. He jumped like dolphins in the water. And then he jumped so high and then he splashed water right in my face.”

Again, it could be that the kid is imaginative but…

“Can you describe him?”

“I just did!” She sits back down with tissues she got from the other side table. She starts drying her treasure.

“No, like…” He can’t believe he’s entertaining the idea. “His hair color, length, his-“

“Oh, Oh! He had a long black hair. Up till here." She points at Steve’s shoulders. “And his eyes are so pretty. There are green thingies on his skin…near his neck. He said he was born with them.”

He feels sick. He feels disoriented. Deep down he knows that it’s probably her wild imagination but she was able to get answers from Bucky.

Steve tries again and doesn't know why or what he's seeking.

“Did he tell you his name?” he asks, seeking her eyes.

She shakes her head. “He said he’s the son of the sea. Said it’s a secret.”

Then she hears her mother call her and she runs to her, leaving a stunned Steve right there on the floor. He moves and rests his back on the sofa, eyes still looking at the seashells.

Rationally, he knows that such tales don’t exist. Mermaids or mermen don't exist. It's just...No. It’s definitely Bucky playing childish games with her. Feeding her imagination. But then, like watching a movie, he replays all of his encounters with Bucky.

The guy was in the water in all of them.

He remembers how fast he was when he raced him. The green patches on his skin. The sometimes translucent eyes and glowing skin. The way his hands play with water as if to display a form of deep bond. How when he sensed his father…his sister’s and the fisherman…how sharks-sharks!-don’t stand a chance against his father…But most of all…Steve thinks about the way Bucky asks about simple things.

Things adults don't ask about or get confused by.

Steve holds his head between his hands. Everything is rushing to him and he laughs humorlessly.

“No way,” he breathes it the moment Peggy shows up in the living room.

“Steve, darling. Are you alright?”

He looks up slowly at her and plasters on a fake smile. “Yeah.”

She raises her brow and he stands up, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Lunch is ready.”

He nods and then heads to the small dining table near the kitchen. Steve pretty much tunes out all the commotion on the table as his mind drowns in thought.

Either he’s losing his mind by believing the kid’s imagination or that she is actually telling the truth.

Which is not better either.

He has to see Bucky. And this time he'll ask him to step out of the water.

"I'm being ridiculous," he says to himself.

"What's that?" Daniel asks as he puts some food on his plate.

Steve shakes his head after realizing he spoke out loud. "Nothing. Put some for me will ya?"

He has to get to the bottom of this or else he’ll lose his mind for real.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the songs mentioned above:
> 
> [Unforgettable by Nat King Cole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDN5rG3wLa4)
> 
> [Johnny B Goode by Chuck Berry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFo8-JqzSCM)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter so much! Hope you like it :)
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

 

 

 

The small family is ready to leave around the evening when Peggy stops as she puts on her light coat.

“I’ll be right there darling,” she says, addressing her husband.

Daniel and little Sarah bid Steve goodbye. Steve knows that look Peggy is giving him.

“You alright?” She asks, eyes narrowed.

He nods. “I’m okay, Pegs.”

When she raises her brow at him, skeptical, he chuckles nervously. “Honestly!”

“I’ve known you for so long Steve. What is it?”

“Peggy.” He touches her shoulder gently. “It’s nothing.”

She looks him up and down and he tries to put on his best poker face. He’s never been a good liar but he’s praying for a miracle today.

“Fine. Be that way.”

After giving him a peck on the cheek, she smirks. “I hope I meet him soon.”

His heart skips a beat and he gapes after her. “Uh…that’s not...”

She doesn’t wait and runs to her husband and daughter. They all turn and wave his way. He waves back, smiling tensely.

Steve waits for twenty minutes, just pacing, waiting for them to leave the premises. He wants to make sure Peggy is nowhere when he goes to confront Bucky.

Bucky, who might be…a merman!

“Jesus!” He mutters, running his hand through his hair.

Without another thought, Steve opens the door and runs his way there, barefoot. But he stops midway when he realizes that he doesn’t know how to start the inevitable confrontation.

_Hey, so are you a merman? Do you have a tail?_

“Ugh!” Steve growls and kicks the sand burying his feet.

Breathing heavily, he turns around and goes back to the cabin. He thinks that he should at least compose himself. Prepare himself. Think seriously of what to say and how to say it. What to ask and how to ask it. Little Sarah might have been playing a trick on him.

Or Bucky played a trick on her.

Or he actually fooled Steve all along.

As soon as he gets inside the cabin, he slams the door shut behind him and heads to throw himself on the couch.

He sits there in the living room, on the comfortable couch and stares right ahead. Almost frozen. He wants to shuts down for few seconds. Clean, blank mind.

Five minutes later and just as he’s about to gather his thoughts and restart his brain, his eyes glance at his deserted laptop. He gets up and makes his way there and sits in front of it. There probably is a way here.

“God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

He opens the Internet browser and stares at the cursor blinking inside Google’s search box.

Steve prides himself on being a very reasonable and rational person. Even though he’s a writer who uses his imagination to produce work, he’s never ventured or was interested in mythology or even entertained the thought.

“Fuck it.”

He types the words:

 

_Merman sightings in Irish Sea_

 

Nothing shows up.

“Of course.”

Most of the sightings are hoaxes or some sort of propaganda or otherwise too old to be proven true. So instead, he finds himself reading pretty much everything about the myth and lore of it all. He gets so lost that it’s near midnight. His eyes are tired of reading and watching documentaries. His mind is full of information that he never thought he’d seek which he might also not need.

When he stumbles on ancient descriptions of the merpeople, he shakes his head.

“But…Bucky doesn’t have fangs or long sharp nails…”

The screen gets blurry and he closes the laptop to rest his eyes from the glowing screen and from reading nonstop. He pauses when his eyes land on the record player. He gets up and plays another album of Nat King Cole. His ears need to hear something. His mind is seeking solace in noise. He can’t stand the silence.

As the melodies play, and his eyes stare at the vinyl spinning, he realizes something.

“Mom…”

Steve runs all the way upstairs and rummages through the hidden boxes in the closet. There are so many things in those boxes that are not helping him in any way: His clothes when he was a baby, his old sketches and drawings, some old photo albums that he’s not ready to glance at and some old literary books.

If his mother loved staying here most of her life, even when he was an adult living in DC, she must have stumbled on them. Mermaids or mermen.

That is if the little kid was telling the truth.

When he couldn’t find anything worth investigating, he sits back on his heels and huffs out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m going mad.”

But before he gets up, his eyes catch a very thick small envelope under the last book in the box. Steve gulps and then reaches out to gently take it out from under Tolstoy’s War & Peace.

It seems that it’s been there for a very long time. The edges of the envelope are brown-colored and one corner is half ripped. But it doesn’t matter. It’s a letter addressed to him.

He doesn’t try to open it for the words on the envelope stop him.

 

**_To my Stevie,_ **

**_Open this when you’re in deep despair. I’m not talking sadness, sweetie. Not even after my death…_ **

**_Utter despair Stevie… only then. Promise me?_ **

 

This wasn’t in his plans today. He never thought he’d stumble on something from his mom. He feels his chest tighten and his eyes fill with tears but he doesn’t let them fall.

He sniffles and takes the envelope, wiping the dust with the sleeve of his cardigan.

“I promise ma.”

Getting up, Steve heads to the small nightstand next to his bed and puts the precious letter inside the drawer.

He sits on the bed and almost goes to lie down when he remembers the record player still playing downstairs.

Steve drags his feet until he gets there. An enchanting melody starts with flute sound. He's making his way across the living room when he stops at what Nat King Cole sings.

 

_**There was a boy** _

Steve pauses and stops in the middle of the room. He doesn't really remember this song of his.

_**A very strange enchanted boy** _

_**They say he wandered very far, very far** _

_**Over land and sea** _

 

Steve slowly makes his way to the record player as he feels his heart beat madly at the lyrics. His skin tingles and his ears ring.

 

_**A little shy and sad of eye  
** _

_**But very wise was he** _

 

It’s like he’s telling him something about Bucky which is absurd.

Steve finds himself staring at the vinyl, waiting for what Cole is gonna sing next.

 

_**And then one day  
** _

_**A magic day he passed my way** _

Steve starts hyperventilating.

  
**_And while we spoke of many things_**

_**Fools and kings  
** _

_**This he said to me** _

 

“What did he say?” Steve whispers to the vinyl.

 

_**The greatest thing you'll ever learn** _

_**Is just to love and be loved in return** _

 

Steve is shaking.

He wipes his face with a shaky hand and tries to calm himself down.

The sad piano and violin sounds fill the place and Steve turns to look out the window. The sea is undisturbed but not Steve.

He starts thinking if this is a sign. That somehow the universe is telling him something.

“Jesus Christ I’m ridiculous!”

 

_**The greatest thing you'll ever learn  
** _

_**Is just to love and be loved in return** _

 

Steve opens the door of the cabin and steps outside on the porch. He sits on the steps, burying his feet in the sand. His eyes are fixed on the sea. There is this second where he thinks he might be imagining all of this. That grieving is making him delusional.

He reaches with his hand and touches the sand, feeling it before his fingers.

Looking back, he gets goosebumps remembering the song he had just heard. The timing is…eerie to say the least.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials Nat’s. He needs to hear someone. An adult.

“Oh, this should be interesting,” Nat drawls at the other end of the line. “Never thought you’d call. Per your instructions.”

“Hey,” he mutters, running his hand through his hair.

“What’s up? Isn’t it kinda late over there? Couldn’t sleep?”

He doesn’t say anything simply because he doesn’t know what to say.

_Hey, Nat. I might’ve been befriending a merman all this time._

“Steve?”

She doesn’t call him by his first name unless she’s really worried.

“I’m here," he says.

“What’s up?”

“I wanna ask you something but please don’t laugh and answer me honestly.”

He feels a door close at her end. “I’m listening.”

Steve rubs his temple, thinking hard on how to phrase what to tell her. What to ask her.

“Ever believed in mythology or folktales?” He asks so fast he cringes at himself.

A relieved sigh reaches him. “Jesus, Rogers. That’s it? You scared the shit outta me.”

She laughs heartily and he finds himself smiling. He really misses her. Misses his friend.

“Are you writing something?”

He shakes his head and then remembers she can’t see him. “Uh…you can say that.”

“Well, what kinda mythology are we talking about here?”

“Nat…” he sighs. “Anything. In general, I mean. Maybe mythical creatures or…I don’t know.”

He waves with his hand and he’s dying to just let it out but he can’t. because if he does, she'll take the next plane to Dublin.

“If you’d asked me years ago, I’d have slapped the back of your head.”

“What does that even mean?”

Steve knows her. Maybe that’s why he called her. She’s the rational one. The levelheaded one.

So it’s jarring when she gives him her answer, chuckling a bit. “I mean... I honestly believe anything and everything right now. For God’s sake, I’m getting married. I never thought it’d happen. That I’d meet someone or fall in love or even entertain the idea of marriage. Yet here I am. Doing all of the above.”

“What are you saying Romanoff?” he asks, letting out a fake laugh but secretly dreading her answer.

She clears her throat. “What I’m saying is that I kinda believe the impossible now.”

There’s that tingling feeling again. “Wow.”

“I know.”

He can literally sense her smile. It tugs at his heart that she’s so far away and…so changed.

“I guess when you fall in love, you kinda get to believe anything is possible.”

_So not helpful._

He wishes he hadn’t called her. He is more confused than ever.

“Did that help? You writing something and that’s you researching?”

“Kinda.”

 

~.~.~

 

He only sleeps for three hours and then gets up at dawn. He doesn’t even think twice before putting on his sweatpants, sneakers and his cardigan, heading out.

It’s still dark outside except for the few streaks of red and yellow in the sky, announcing the inevitable rise of the sun.

Steve is walking on the beach like a guy on a mission.

When he reaches their usual spot of hangout, he stands on the rock and looks at the water.

The sea is very serene and so beautiful.

Wind makes him shiver a bit and he decides not to call for Bucky. He needs to double-check something. Turning left, he jumps from the rock and continues walking on shore, leaving the private property. It’s his last chance of proving that Bucky is human and that he was merely humoring little Sarah.

There are no other cabins in sight.

Steve curses under his breath when he finds more rocks and more land.

His footing falters when something in the sand connects with his foot.

“Shit.”

He looks down and frowns. It’s a boot. A very old one too.

When he picks it up, he notices that there are other things buried under it. He crouches down and digs with his hand that’s not holding the boot. There is a fork, a box, a book, a compass and a pearl necklace. It’s a very random collection.

Steve looks up and around. He’s very far from his property and there isn’t any other evidence of someone living around here. He looks down again and moves the sand around, looking for more items.

His heart stops for few seconds. He honestly believes that when he finds the folded paper of his sketch. The sketch Bucky asked him to draw.

He thinks maybe his eyes are betraying him, so he grabs his phone and turns on the flash light.

It is the exact paper.

He breathes hard and puts everything back the way it was. He buries it and gets up.

Turning around, he runs and runs and runs. He knows what all of this means. He knows. Deep down he knows but he wants to see. See for himself.

When he reaches the same rock Bucky hides behind, he jumps on it and looks around. The sun is casting a fiery color over the water.

“Bucky! Bucky!”

Steve is out of breath and he should probably get his bearings but he can’t take this anymore.

“It can’t be…” He whispers to himself.

There’s no sign of Bucky or of him showing up. The water looks almost still. Not disturbed at all.

Without a second thought, he takes off his shoes, cardigan and t-shirt and sweatpants. He dives in the water and suppresses a scream at the freezing temperature.

Another clue of how Bucky survives in this degree.

Coming up the surface and spitting some water, he shakes his head and swims.

He swims and swims and swims.

“Bucky! Bucky, where are you?” He yells at the top of his lungs.

He looks around, waiting.

When few minutes have passed, he growls at his luck and turns around, swimming until he reaches shore. He inhales deeply and tries his best not to shiver but to no avail.

Of course Bucky won’t be here. Of all the days he wanted Bucky to be here…

Steve grabs his stuff and doesn’t bother putting his t-shirt back on. He just drapes his cardigan over him and walks to the cabin, very much upset about the whole thing and doesn't precisely know why.

 

~.~.~

 

After drinking two full mugs of coffee and eating a muffin that Peggy had brought with her, Steve goes and changes into dry clothes. He wears his running shoes and running shorts and an undershirt.

He goes out and does some stretching before springing up and running along shore, leaving the property and heading to town. He can’t stay in the cabin. Not when his mind is preoccupied like this. It’s never been like this. Not even when he used to write to meet a close deadline.

He runs and runs and runs until he finds himself running through the streets of the town. Looking around at the people, he envies them for their peace of mind. He stops at a small grocery shop and buys two bottles of water. He finishes one on the way back home and is drinking the second one when he reaches the cabin.

His mind is a bit quiet and he’s grateful. He goes inside and takes a shower. Twenty minutes later, he’s in front of his laptop, searching for images of a guy named Bucky in Dublin.

No results.

He shuts it down and looks at the time. It’s near noon. So he decides to try again.

He grabs his sketchbook and heads there, shoulders hunched. When he reaches their spot, he sits far away from the water. Putting the pencil to the paper, he sketches Nat. He needs to look back at someone familiar. Someone warm. Someone…normal.

“Hello Steve!”

Steve looks up quick and stills as he finds Bucky waving at him from behind the rock. He looks delighted and very…jubilant. And for the first time since he met him, Steve doesn’t smile back.

Bucky doesn’t notice. He’s busy spinning around in the water. He lifts his arms, watching as the water runs over his glowing skin. Bucky smiles at it as if he's communicating with it.

Gulping and feeling his heart beat so erratically, Steve gets up and walks closer to the water.

He doesn’t greet him and just blurts, “Where were you this morning?”

“Hmm?” Bucky stops his strange movements in the water.

“I…looked for you this early morning-“

“I was at a ceremony.” And Bucky clasps his hands under his chin, eyes sparkling in excitement. “It was the most jubilant and festive wedding. It’s extraordinary…seeing the people you hold dear celebrate their love for each other.”

And he sighs contentedly, reminiscing. Steve doesn’t really care about whomever he’s talking about. What he’s feeling is probably reflected on his face because Bucky’s smile falters and his brows furrow.

“What’s the matter, Steve?”

Steve rubs his face with his shaky hands and walks closer, feet immersed in the cold water. He has to get in fully. Swim even.

But not yet.

“My close friend just visited me yesterday. With her family,” Steve explains in a very cool tone.

“Oh,” Bucky mutters.

Steve looks for something, a sign of recognition or wariness, but Bucky’s face is neutral.

“You must’ve seen her daughter playing around here. Surely.”

It’s only seconds where Steve is counting the beats of his own heart, waiting, before Bucky shakes his head.

“I didn’t swim here yesterday.”

Steve purses his lips and takes one more step. His eyes are not leaving Bucky’s. His confusion and anger is making him bolder even though he was intending to tread carefully.

“Funny thing happened,” he starts and doesn’t wait for Bucky’s response. “Her daughter-Sarah- got some seashells and rocks.”

Then he sees it. Bucky’s face changes. Just a little. Apprehension is starting to show on his beautiful face. He keeps silent, eyes still watching Steve. Wary.

Steve holds his breath at the reaction. He looks away for a second. “You should’ve seen them, Bucky. They’re exactly like the ones you gave me.”

He looks back at Bucky and waits a bit, hands balled up inside his pockets.

“She must’ve found them on the beach,” Bucky says after clearing his throat. His voice is on the verge of wavering.

“Really?” And Steve looks around. “I don’t think so. See…I always walk around here and never once have I found those colorful ones.”

Bucky swims back a bit and Steve’s heart clenches. His ears start ringing at what the motivation of this could mean.

“When I asked her about them, do you know what she told me?” Steve laughs slightly with no mirth whatsoever and finds himself on the verge of hysteria. “She said that it was a merman! A merman gave them to her! Can you believe it?”

This does it.

Bucky’s usual glow fades. Darkness befalls him and his face drains of color and Steve is trying not to hyperventilate at the meaning of all of this.

That Sarah was telling the truth.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Bucky asks in a wavering voice.

Steve steps closer, the water reaching his waist. Bucky swims back a bit. 

Steve doesn’t want to scare him. He just wants to know the truth because everything he had believed in, throughout all of his life, is about to change. If little Sarah was telling the truth, then there could be mythical creatures around here.

And one of them is right in front of him.

Steve is scared but he puts on a false calmness to his demeanor and strength to his voice. “I just wanted to ask you if you’ve seen one or any of those…merpeople.”

Bucky shakes his head vehemently. “There isn’t such a thing. They don’t exist. I swim a lot. I know.”

Steve scratches his temple. “You know another funny thing happened. Little Sarah actually described him.” And then he looks directly at Bucky. “And you fit the description.”

Bucky lets out a nervous laughter. Steve quickly notices how his teeth somehow look different. Sharp all of a sudden.

And he freezes. He doesn’t try to step forward like he’d been doing throughout this confrontation. Instead, he holds his ground.

“Children always have a flight of fancy,” Bucky states firmly, laughter dying all of a sudden.

“Really?” Steve asks, composed. “You think so?”

“Yes.” Bucky looks at him hard. “They spin tales and run wild.”

“I disagree. I think children tell the truth. They’re brutally honest.”

They both stare at each other, waiting.

Steve then makes his decision and takes off his sweater. He watches as Bucky tenses.

“What are you doing?” Bucky’s voice is full of fear and vulnerability.

Steve takes off his t-shirt and pants, standing only in his boxers. “I’m gonna go look for him. Gotta know if she was telling the truth or not. If they exist or not.”

And he doesn’t wait. He dives into the water and swims away from Bucky and into the sea.

He doesn’t stop. Just swims and swims and swims. His muscles are burning. Strained. His breath is labored. But he doesn’t want to stop. He’s upset. Enraged even. And doesn’t want to turn back until he gets to find the truth. He knows that if he keeps going, Bucky will try to stop him.

He’s counting on that.

Then he yelps and swallows a bit of seawater when Bucky springs up right in front of him, blocking his way further.

Steve hovers there, breathing heavily as he wipes his face from the salty droplets of water.

“It’s logically impossible for you to be ahead of me. There’s no way…” Steve always took pride in being an excellent swimmer. He didn’t join his school’s swimming team for nothing.

“You cannot swim past this area,” Bucky says determinedly. “You’re on their outskirts.”

Steve starts really studying those patches of green and blue on his skin. They’re not tattoos. And they’re kind of glowing in the sunlight.

All of a sudden, Bucky pleads in a very shaken voice that Steve doesn’t like. “I beg of you, go back.”

His instinct is to soothe him. Soothe his worries but he’s upset, damn it. Bucky is hiding something and looking at him now, it’s pretty clear why he’s panicking.

“Are you worried that I figured everything out? That I figured _you_ out?” Steve asks through gritted teeth. He finds himself shaking and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s livid or because the water is freezing.

Bucky’s eyes are pleading. “I’m worried that you will get yourself killed. This is their territory-“

“Whose territory?”

Bucky is looking around, eyes wide. “They’re here. They will eventually smell us.”

“Bucky, what-“

“I’m violating the accord as we speak. We have to leave now.” Bucky reaches and grabs his arm, making him wince. Sharp nails are digging into his skin.

Steve pulls away, jerking Bucky forward. He frowns as he tries to comprehend what is being said. “Accord with who?”

“The sharks!”

In an instant, Bucky stills and Steve follows suit. Only their labored breaths are heard. Then he notices behind Bucky, a slight distance away, that the water is parting.

“There are two of them,” Bucky whispers.

Steve can’t for the life of him know how Bucky figured this since he’s giving his back to them. 

He doesn’t move. The scared look on Bucky’s face doesn’t help either.

“Shit,” Steve breathes.

If he knew this is the last word he’d utter, he would’ve said something more profound.

It happens in a blink of an eye. Bucky circles his arm around Steve’s waist in a powerful grip, and dives in the water, taking them deeper.

Deeper and deeper and deeper.

Steve holds his breath and fights him but to no avail. All he can see is darkness. So he closes his eyes. Out of survival instinct, he holds on to Bucky, circling his arms around his neck and holding on.

They’re swimming so fast he can’t believe it’s possible. He’s trying to move his legs and kick or something but can’t.

He’s starting to run out of oxygen and he shakes Bucky but the guy is like a force, unstoppable. When he tries to open his eyes again, he’s attacked with the rushing salty water.

His legs are kicking now, wanting to go to the surface. Wanting to break from Bucky's grip. He’s losing breath. Yet, he stops when his legs brush a very silky skin.

His head is cloudy and fails at what to make of this. He’s losing consciousness. He tries one last time, gripping Bucky’s skin, marking it.

But it’s no use for he shuts down instantly.

 

~.~.~

 

“Come up ancient friend. Come up and out. I am my father's son. I am the son of the sea. Leave this vessel at once. Leave him be and go back home. Back where you belong. _Please_.”

Those strange words and chants are making their way to his consciousness. Steve doesn't know what to make of them. Whether they're real and uttered or out of his pure imagination.

Steve feels his chest burns and that there is something hovering over him. Something is crawling over his stomach on the outside and the inside, all the way to his neck and finally his mouth.

He hears the bubbling water before feeling it leave his mouth. He coughs and coughs and coughs. Doubling over, he doesn’t fail to notice that the water is springing from outside his mouth like a fountain. As if they are controlled. Defying the laws of physics.

“Oh Steve! Oh Steve!”

Steve lays back, feeling his throat damaged. When he opens his eyes, he’s met with the angelic face of Bucky.

He smiles in spite of everything. He reaches out and touches Bucky’s hand, which is resting on his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry,” Bucky whispers heatedly. Then he noses Steve's cheek rendering him red in the face. He swears he's hearing melodious sounds coming from Bucky.

Steve recovers and remembers what Bucky said. He frowns. “Wh…why?”

“I forgot you don’t breathe under water.”

It clicks in Steve’s head the oddity of that statement. There it is. The last clue that would solve the puzzle. Maybe Steve has been in denial all this time. Then it comes crashing to him. What he’s been searching for. What he’s been seeking. What Bucky or who Bucky is.

He feels it before he sees it. Something brushes the sole of his feet. He doesn’t sit right away but pulls himself up and his breath catches.

Everything stops.

In all of the years he researched, imagined, visualized and wrote…he never thought he’d be able to conjure the vision that is in front of his eyes.

Little Sarah didn’t imagine him. Didn’t make up a story of meeting a merman.

Because Bucky _is_ a merman.

The blue-turquoise colored long tail is lined up next to Steve’s immobile, tired body. The two fins are waving around. Shinning in the sunlight.

Steve can’t blink for fear of missing it. Missing documenting it with his eyes. His eyes travel until the he sees where the tail ends and Bucky's waist begins. His human form begins.

It’s mesmerizing for seconds before recognition hits Steve ten folds.

“Oh my God…” he whispers and his voice comes out shaky.

A loud gasp and a sharp one too catches him off-guard. He turns to his left, looking at Bucky's face. He's shaking in fear and crawling backwards and away from Steve.

“Bucky…” he stretches his arm out, wanting to stop him.

“No, please. Please, don’t. Please. I’m not supposed to-Leave me be. I beg of you. I saved your life and now you save mine.”

He sounds terrified and shaken that Steve had seen his true form. A form of where he’s half human and half fish.

What did he think Steve would do?

Realization comes to him hard and he shakes his head. “No, Bucky. Wait, I wouldn’t hurt you. Wait, Bucky! I just wanna talk. Bucky!”

And he watches in trance how Bucky just almost slithers his way back to the water and dives in.

This time the same way little Sarah described him. Jumping like a dolphin.

The large, beautiful fins splashing the water is the last thing Steve sees of Bucky.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned in this chapter is [Nature Boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaDyA2pFmHw)
> 
> Give it a listen. It's really enchanting!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.

 

 

 

 

It’s been two hours since Bucky fled. More like swam away to the depth of the sea.

Steve had taken a shower and applied some cream he found in the kit that apparently Peggy left for him. He'd found long and slightly deep cuts around his torso. It’s obviously from Bucky’s strong grip and sharp nails.

He’s hissing at the pain as he applies it when all of a sudden there's a loud and scary crack from above.

Like the sky is falling.

The tube of cream falls from his hand as he starts straining his ears. It’s another five seconds before it happens again and it sounds like thunder and lightening.

There is another sound. Another ominous sound and it makes his breath quiken at what lies behind the cabin’s door.

He runs to the door and swings it open.

His breath catches.

The sea isn’t the same.

The sea is a storm. A dark, angry storm.

The sky isn’t the same one he saw few hours ago.

The dark clouds are gathered, trying to witness what’s taking place beneath.

His eyes go back to the sea. The waves are crashing and rising up in a way that he’s never seen. Not even on the weather channel or nature documentaries.

“Bucky…” Steve whispers brokenly.

He steps on his porch and notices something bizarre about the whole situation.

There’s no wind.

He frowns and steps on land to investigate. It's only then that he notices that a huge wave seems to be heading toward the cabin.

Steve is assured that it can’t possibly reach him, but it _is_ heading his way.

Fortunately, it crashes few feet away.

He wants to know what’s going on down there. The sea is upset.

Bucky’s chant comes back to him.

_“I’m my father’s son. I am the son of the sea…”_

“Oh God…his father.” He grips his hair in frustration.

So many questions run through his head but he has to go back inside. The sea seems to be getting angrier by the minute.

Closing the door behind him, he feels his heart with his shaky hand. It’s pounding. It’s hurting. It’s afraid.

For Bucky.

“What the fuck did I do?” he whispers to no one.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

The absence of Bucky turns out to be distressing. And it’s killing Steve that he’s the one who caused that.

Every minute of every day that passes by Steve feels more hopeless.

One morning he glances at the bedstand and opens the drawer. The letter his mother left him is there. Taunting him.

Utter despair. Only then.

“Ugh but I’m desperate now!”

He takes out the letter and holds it in his hands, feeling the envelope. It’s heavy.

Closing his eyes, he examines his feelings.

Steve sighs and puts it back inside.

He’s sad. Sad and angry. A little desperate but not _that_ desperate.

It’s been a week. A long, boring week.

It goes on the same way every day.

Like a dull routine, he’d wake up, brew coffee and take his mug to be at their spot with his sketchbook under his arm.

He would sit at the rock and try not to freeze in the cold wind in the early morning. He would watch the sunrise and then sketch. He knows deep down that Bucky won’t ever show his face again. Won’t ever swim around here even. And it’s his damned fault.

And it _hurts_. 

Steve would wait there until noon and then he’d go back to the cabin to fix himself lunch and then take it to go back to the same spot. He’d sit on the sand. He’d already set up a place for him. A blanket would be there at all times so he won’t have to carry it every time. His sketchbooks and pencils are there from dawn till nighttime.

He’d have his lunch there. Sketch more and then when it's the evening, he’d walk along shore, twice, before sitting back and staring at the sea.

Waiting.

One thing has changed in his sketches. They’re not only of Bucky.

They're of Bucky in his glorious form. Two of his notebooks are almost full, so he makes a mental note to go to town and buy a new one.

 

It goes on like this for two weeks and Steve almost loses his mind.

He needs to see him. To apologize. To tell him that he’s safe here. On his property. That he can trust him with his secret.

“Like he would after what you pulled off, Rogers,” he says, reprimanding himself.

 

By the third week, Steve is having trouble sleeping. The guilt is eating him up.

While brewing his coffee early in the morning, a thought comes to him as he smells his favorite coffee brand.

Taking his mug outside on the porch, he grabs his phone on the way out and stands on the porch. The sea is as always these days. Quiet. Almost still. Steve squints his eyes, trying to make sure if there are waves.

When his eyes fail him, he dials her number.

“Hello, darling.”

“Hey Pegs,” he greets softly.

“Not that I’m unhappy you called but you’ve got to admit, your timing is a bit off. It’s damn too early and _I_ teach at the university.”

He lets out a weak laugh but doesn’t say anything else. He can hear some clanking and figures she’s making herself coffee or something.

“Steve?”

He feels his throat closing and his mouth trembling. Suddenly, all the guilt and frustration he's been feeling toward this Bucky thing catches up to him.

“Darling? You there?”

“Uh…can I visit you guys? Like today? Maybe stay over for three days?”

“Of course! You know I don’t own London.”

He laughs genuinely this time and appreciates her sense of humor. “Thanks. Text me your address again. I wanna book a hotel that’s closest to you.”

“Ha! You’re staying with us. We need somebody to use the small guestroom.”

Steve sighs. “Okay. Will text you when I land.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Two hours later, he goes on a run through town. He doesn’t even try to run along the shore. He’s tired of hoping. Besides, he would hate himself more.

A small quaint flower shop stops him. With shallow breath and sweaty hands, he stands there staring at the flowers.

“Can I help you Sir?”

Steve snaps out of his reverie and clears his throat. “What are the best flowers for saying sorry?”

“Upset the lass, eh?” The old man smirks his way with a twinkle in his eyes.

Steve rubs the back of his head. “It's for a friend.”

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Thanks.”

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

After going back to the cabin, Steve showers and packs a small duffel bag. Then he double checks everything before he leaves.

The bouquet of Hyacinth Blooms that are of white and purple colors are waiting there. Taunting him on the table.

After he turns everything off, he takes off his shoes and rolls up his pant legs and walks to shore, heading to the rock with the bouquet in his hand.

His eyes wander for one last minute, but purses his lips and wades into the water, only the feet submerged.

He stares at the horizon.

“Hey Bucky,” he mutters softly. He finds that his voice is shaking and it’s absurd how affected he is by all of this.

It’s like saying goodbye for good.

He doesn't really want that to happen but three weeks with no show, it's clear that Bucky doesn't want anything to do with Steve.

“Um…" He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "I just want to say that I’m leaving today. I…remember my good friend Peggy? Well, I’m gonna go visit her. She lives in London. Across this sea.” He chuckles and runs his free hand through his hair.

“I’ll be going for three days. I just…Here,” and he props the flowers on the boulder. He looks for a medium-sized rock to lay it on top of the hand-tied stems just to prevent it from falling.

“These are,” he tries to explain, smiling. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen these before but they’re called flowers. Hyacinth Blooms to be exact.” He takes a deep breath. “They’re given to someone if you seek their forgiveness.”

He steps back and before turning around to head to the cabin, he adds, “I hope you forgive me for what I did to you. I didn’t mean to scare you or hurt you or...expose your secret. I’m truly sorry.”

Steve, with a heart full of disappointment, leaves the spot and jogs his way back to the cabin. The sooner he leaves, the less it hurts.

His eyes catch the record player and he's reminded of his favorite music.

He pulls his phone out and downloads the full album of Nat King Cole’s hits.

Satisfied at the state of everything, he locks up the cabin and leaves for the airport.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

**_Since you went away_ **

**_The days grow long_ **

**_And soon I’ll hear_ **

**_Old winter’s song_ **

**_But I miss you most of all my darling…_ **

 

Steve jolts when he feels a pat on his shoulder. He takes off his headphones and notices the blushing flight attendant standing over him.

“My apologies, sir. But would you like a drink?”

Steve gulps and tries to ignore the sounds and lyrics he can still hear from the discarded headphones around his neck.

“Uh…Coca Cola would be great.”

“Of course.”

And she puts a plastic cup of Coca Cola with a lot of ice on the small table for him.

Steve circles his fingers around the cold cup and just holds on to it. He needs the cold feeling for he feels his heart beat widely as the violin sound is emitted through his headphones which are still hung around his neck, neglected.

He can’t believe how those lyrics are so relevant to what he’s going through.

Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t feel that way. I’m just feeling...guilty," he whispers to himself as he leans his head over the small window. His eyes are seeking the sea below him.

It’s so beautiful.

 

**_Since you went away_ **

**_The days grow long_ **

**_And soon I’ll hear_ **

**_Old winter’s song_ **

**_But I miss you most of all my darling…_ **

**_When autumn leaves start to fall_ **

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“Well, dinner is set,” Peggy says from the door.

Steve sits up from the bed in the small guestroom. He smiles tiredly and she comes over and ruffles his hair a bit.

“Hey!” Steve moves away from her.

“Oh apologies, your highness. You became rich and now you’re all fancy and proper.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll be right down.”

Before she leaves and closes the door behind her, she says over her shoulder, “Take as long as you need, Steve.”

After she closes the door, Steve groans and falls back on the bed. He doesn't feel like engaging with her family right now. He needs a few hours to do what he came here to do.

Talk to Peggy and vent..and make sure he doesn't cry while doing so.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

The next day, Steve wakes up to an empty house. They all left for work and school. He finds home-made muffins and coffee for him. Sitting there in the little kitchen, in silence, makes Steve’s skin tingle.

His chest constricts a bit and he tries his best to enjoy the food in his mouth.

An hour later, he finds himself re-familiarizing himself with the great city of London. He decides to visit all those tourist stops he first did back in the day with Peggy and their other friends. Piccadilly, Trafalgar square, the Buckingham palace and Oxford street. And when he sees Waterstones, he pulls out his cap and puts it on before going inside. The last thing he needs is someone recognizing him in a bookstore.

He sighs and roams around. Being around books is how he came to be. He glances at the bestsellers and new releases. It’s been a while. All of this world was forgotten ever since his mother was admitted to the hospital. He made sure he was cut off of all of this world. His world.

And now he’s back.

It feels good.

But lonely.

He asks one of the employees, who luckily doesn’t recognize him, about all the books about merpeople. From mythology to hoaxes to incidents. He needs to cover all.

There’s a café downstairs, very secluded, in the bookstore. He goes down there, orders American coffee and spreads all four books the girl has given him on the wooden table.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

And he starts reading.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“Pardon me Sir, but we’re closing in twenty minutes.”

“Huh?” Steve rubs his eyes and looks at his watch. “Oh, okay.”

He looks at his phone and curses softly when he sees five missed calls from Peggy and two from Sousa. It’s near 9 p.m. and he really needs to get home.

Picking up the four books, he heads upstairs and goes to the front desk to buy them. He did finish two of them, so he buys the other unread two. It'll be good to read when the house is empty tomorrow.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“Steven Grant Rogers, where the hell have you been?”

“Yeah, man. Scared the shit outta us.”

Steve smiles and jokes, “I’m sorry guys, okay? But last time I checked I was an adult.”

He brushes past them and looks around to find that Sarah had already gone to bed.

Peggy closes the door and Daniel follows her. Steve escapes to the living room and drops his weight on the sofa. Peggy comes and puts her hands on her hips.

“You gave me a fright,” she says with pursed lips.

Steve chuckles tiredly. “You’re _so_ British.”

Peggy raises her brow at him. At that reaction, he realizes how he came across. Putting his hand up, he starts, “I’m sorry. I was just in the bookstore reading. Didn’t notice the time.”

She stands there, gives her husband a glance and then sighs. “Fine. Well, tomorrow I’m spending the whole day with you. Deal with it.”

With that, she leaves to go upstairs before Steve has the chance to utter a response. A loud sigh sounds near him and he turns to see Daniel taking a seat at the far chair. He puts his crutch next to him.

“I’m sorry, Sousa,” Steve starts as he feels that they’re truly upset. “I didn’t know it would be a big deal.”

"She worries about you. I worry."

"Well, there's no need." It comes out stronger than he intended.

Daniel stares at him and Steve feels uncomfortable at the scrutiny. "What is it? Do I have something on my face?"

"No," Daniel answer somberly. "But imagine being in her place when her best friend calls all of a sudden needing to visit and then disappearing."

"You were all away, how-"

"You can't blame her. Blame us," Daniel interrupts, eyes locking on Steve.

Steve feels like a scolded child and doesn't like that. "I'm sorry but I don't see-"

"You were great at the cabin when we saw you. You looked...happy, engaging."

Steve looks up and sees Daniel smiling gently his way. "But?"

"You look thinner now." Daniel waves his hand around. "Bags under your eyes, distant. At dinner the other night, I caught you staring off into space." Daniel looks at him in concern.

Steve feels his cheeks redden. _Is it I that obvious?_

"Something happened between that time and now."

Steve's heart beat fast and he whips his head Daniel's way. "Nothing's wrong," he lies and he knows it.

"Well," Daniel says and gets up to head upstairs. "You came here to talk to her. Maybe you should and soon."

Steve spends the next hours contemplating if he did the right thing by coming here in the first place.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

The next morning is weekend. Steve leaves the guestroom to make coffee before Peggy gets up but of course he finds her there.

“Morning,” he greets with a timid smile.

Peggy raises her brow and hands him a mug of coffee. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

He sits on one of the bar stools across from her. She’s in her pajamas and he’s never seen her look like that before.

It really has been a long time. He casts his eyes down and contemplates how years have really gone by so fast.

And he’s still here.

The same. Alone.

“Listen, Pegs,” he starts but she stops him when she turns and presents him a plate of a scones with jam and butter on the side. She splits one and butters it up, putting a bit of jam on top and hands it over.

“Dig in before I finish this whole thing,” she instructs with a smile.

He opens his mouth to object but decides against it when she fixes him with a stern look. “Okay. Thanks.”

She goes on and fixes one for her and drinks her coffee like the elegant woman she is.

After eating in silence, he breathes deeply and prepares himself. “I’m sorry about last night, Pegs. But you don’t need to worry that much about me. I got lost in reading and you know how it goes…”

“It’s not that…” She puts a wild strand of hair behind her ear and looks at her mug before continuing. “I left you in that cabin, Steve. If I were worried, I’d have moved in there with you.”

“Oh, then why worry?” He asks, knowing full well what her answer would be. Sousa surely talked to her last night.

She sighs. “You’ve been fine and suddenly you call because you wanna visit.”

He tries to stall. "Can't I visit for fun?“

“Don’t be daft, Steve. You know what I mean. Daniel told me he talked to you and I'm gonna repeat what he said in my own words. Something happened to you in the past few days and I can’t handle you moping around and about.”

Steve almost falls out of his seat. “I’m not moping.” Then he leans over, stubborn. “I do _not_ mope.”

She folds her arms over her chest and taps her foot. “We’re going to be spending this day together, you and I, so I suggest darlin’ that you come out and say it.”

Steve huffs out a long breath and drums two fingers on the handle of the mug. He could tell her. Everything. From the moment he met Bucky till this moment.

But he won’t betray Bucky’s trust again. He can’t risk his existence and identity.

He’s a writer and he’ll know how to spin tales. All he has to do is tweak the truth a bit.

Deep within, he really wants to talk to someone. Face-to-face about his…feelings. About what he did.

“I…hurt someone,” he finally admits softly, not looking her way.

He exhales loudly. It feels good, getting it off his chest.

Now, it’s time for advice. So he looks up at her, pleading.

She frowns then tilts her head to the side. “Listen, Steve. I’m not going to help you hide the body. I'm not Natasha. I’d take you to the authorities right away.”

He frowns, “Wha…”

And she smirks. He laughs and realizes it’s been such a long time since they had this back and forth.

“You know what I mean,” Steve replies after recovering.

“I honestly don’t.” She pats his hand twice. “Enlighten me.”

He breathes deeply and clears his throat. “I…met someone.”

“I knew it! Swear to God!”

Rolling his eyes, he’s quick to amend. “It’s not like that. I befriended someone. Someone who’s just…”

And his brain stops suddenly. How can he describe Bucky?

"Go on," Peggy prompts softly.

Steve lets out a nervous laugh and rubs his forehead. "He's an amazing guy. Fun to be around...Pure-hearted even...but then I had to go and ruin it."

"What did you do?"

He hunches over. "I...betrayed his trust."

When she seems that she's waiting for an elaboration, Steve stumbles on his next words. How can he explains Bucky? If he does, he'll expose him.

"I shouldn't have pushed, you know. I should've just waited..."

She looks confused and he shies away and looks at the crumbs near the plate. "I should've just waited for him to trust me with personal information."

Steve looks up and for the first time in his life, he finds Peggy at a loss for words.

"Pegs?"

"Well, now that you've explained what’s going on with you, all I have to say is that you need to apologize. Whatever you did to him..."

"I did apologize!" He says with desperation. "I even left flowers for him but he never showed up..."

He sighs again for the hundredth time and rubs his forehead. "I hurt his feelings and there's nothing I can do about it."

There is a beat of silence before Peggy takes his mug away from him. "Come on, let's go."

"What?"

“Come on, we’re going out,” Peggy announces a bit cheerfully.

“What?” His eyes follow her as she collects her messenger bag and puts stuff there that he can’t see for she’s intentionally blocking him. “Peggy?”

Turning off the coffee maker, she turns around. “There’s something that might help.”

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“Covent Garden?” Steve asks, bewildered, as he looks at the cozy noisy place.

It’s full of people roaming around: people having coffee, some street performers, and some shoppers.

“Yes, there’s a good spot. Come on.”

She drags him all the way to a small coffee shop there. He sits on one table with two chairs. Peggy drops her bag on her lap and digs inside. The she takes out a notepad and a pen.

She presents it to him and levels him with a look.

“Write.”

It's like she hit him with a cold bucket of water. Nerves take over. “Wh-what?”

Peggy nods toward the notebook. “Go on.”

“I thought we were gonna do something fun?!”

“We will, after you get it out of your system.”

He pushes the notepad and pen back toward her and frowns so hard he feels his face will freeze that way. “I can’t write. I honestly can’t.”

“Steve, I’m not asking you to write a novel."

"Then what?" It comes out harsher than he intended.

She doesn't even care and elaborates, "Write to him.”

_Oh._

How can he tell her that Bucky doesn’t even read. Or does he?

It hits him bad how that fact breaks him a little. He looks away and his eyes land on street performers who are break dancing.

“Peggy…I don’t know where he lives,” he lies and he knows for sure she caught him.

She doesn’t say anything back. She just smiles and then taps his hand before standing up.

“Just imagine you're meeting him here, and say whatever you want.” She pushes her chair back and then leans over. “You’ve been moping nonstop. This guy clearly means so much to you…so let it out.”

Steve is rendered speechless. And with that, she leaves him all alone in that coffee shop even though there are so many people milling around.

She has left him alone with a notepad and a pen which are both mocking him.

His hand reaches for the pen and he positions it on the paper. His eyes though look up at the crowd. So many people from so many different parts of the world.

Yet, none of them know that there is another world. Another magical world. A world under the water. Bucky’s world.

A soft sigh escapes him and he finds himself writing.

 

_I wish you were here. I wish I could talk to you now. Apologize face-to-face. I can’t believe what I did and I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me for what I did._

_I’m in London now. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it Bucky, but it’s magical. Amazing. So many people are around here._

_I wish I could show you the places here. I have a strong feeling that you’ll love it…_

 

Steve laughs as he looks at the paper. He wrote something!

So goes back and writes and writes and writes.

He doesn’t stop until Peggy shows up two hours later. When he looks up at her, he finds her smiling proudly.

He smiles back.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve ends up changing his plans and decides to stay for a week. He would write his letters to Bucky like a journal. Describing his every day on paper. Even though he knows that he will have to throw those papers away, he doesn’t stop.

Until one day in the evening, Steve is babysitting Sarah. Her parents have left for a conference up north and they’re coming back late at night.

Steve is reading the last book he got about mermaid mythology when looking at a painting of a merman reminded him of Bucky. The picture doesn't do any justice to the real deal. Bucky is far more gorgeous than those depicted in history.

He feels his cheeks heat at the thought of Bucky's beauty. _Fuck! Get your mind outta the gutter._

Looking at Sarah, he finds her still invested in finishing her school project.

Then he gets an idea. So, he puts the book away and goes to sit on the floor across from her.

“Hey Sarah?”

“Hmm?” Her brows are knit in total concentration on her science project which appears to be building something Steve has no idea what.

_Where's the harm if I ask?_

“Do you remember…the merman you met?” he asks in a very timid voice, surprising himself.

Thankfully, she doesn’t pick up on it and continues to not look his way. “Yeah.”

“Did he say anything beside what you told me that time?”

She’s so oblivious to his dilemma. He's fidgeting and almost biting his nails in anticipation.

“Like what?” she frowns this time as she looks up.

“I don’t know…" Steve tries not to hyperventilate. "Anything at all.”

She shrugs and he deflates. Watching her and waiting is fruitless.

It isn't until he gets up and heads back to his spot on the couch that she says, “Oh he said he wishes he has legs.”

Steve turns around quickly, stumbling his way back to her. He winces when his knee bumps into the coffee table. “Wh-what?”

Sarah is gluing something, two small papers. “I said to him I wish I have a tail like his tail then he said he wishes he has legs so he can dance.”

“Oh.”

“He said he hears beautiful music at night and wishes he can dance to it.” Then Sarah gets up and Steve holds his breath, hoping she wouldn’t abandon this topic all together. She rummages through her backpack and mutters, ‘yes!’

“What music?” He asks breathlessly, already knowing the answer.

“He listens to beautiful music at night and wishes to dance to it. I told him he’s crazy. Who wants to be human, right?” She looks at Steve, waiting.

He quickly nods, agreeing.

“Duh!” She says, giggling.

Steve is still hung up on the part about the music and dance.

“What..." He suddenly finds his throat very dry. He gulps before saying, "What else did he say?”

She shrugs.

“Okay. Okay.” It’s a lot to take in and he feels his ears are ringing and suddenly it’s very loud. He needs to quiet down his mind.

And just when he decides to let it all sink in and resort back to his room, she opens her mouth.

“He told me he wants to dance with his special human. When I asked who was that, he splashed me with his tail. So rude!” She actually smiles but then frowns when the papers don't stick. “Oh no. Now I gotta redo this.”

Steve is still frozen in his spot and watches her go fetch another glue, his mind though is…

His heart is speeding…special human?

Does he mean...

Steve sits there, dumbfounded. Unable to explain all of this. What does that mean? What does all of this mean?

He wishes he didn't ask the little girl.

 

He doesn’t write that night.

Instead, Steve goes and lies on his bed in a fetal position and wishes that his mother was there to solve things.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Two weeks later, Steve is on the plane back to Dublin.

He’s looking out the small window on the plane. The sea below is blue yet dark.

And vast. So vast.

He scrolls through the music library on his phone and clicks on Cole’s album. He lets his finger randomly choose a song.

 

**_Answer me_ **

**_Oh, my love_ **

**_Just what sin have I been guilty of_ **

**_Tell me how I came to lose your love_ **

**_Please answer me, sweetheart_ **

**_You were mine yesterday_ **

**_I believed that love was here to stay_ **

 

He pulls out his sketchbook and pencils.

Automatically, he finds himself sketching Bucky.

Sighing, he thinks of how it’s going to be now. He’ll be alone again. Bucky definetly won't be coming back again. Steve blew that one.

 

**_Won't you tell me where I've gone astray_ **

**_Please answer me, my love_ **

**_If you're happier without me_ **

**_I'll try not to care_ **

**_But if you still think about me_ **

**_Please listen to my prayer_ **

 

 Steve looks out the window, and sends out a prayer.

 

**_You must know I've been true_ **

**_Won't you say that we can start anew_ **

**_In my sorrow now I turn to you_ **

**_Please answer me, my love_ **

 

"Please," he whispers to the sea down below.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve pays the taxi driver, thanks him and then heads to the beach. He stops for a moment upon seeing the water. Part of him feels that he’s finally at ease. He’s home. The other part feels sad. Bucky’s here but he won’t come back.

Steve shakes his head distractedly and secures his duffel bag on his shoulder and starts walking toward the cabin.

During his walk back home, he keeps his head down. Looking at the sea up close…at the shore…feels a bit painful. Apparently, being in London and away from here was a bit relieving. Now, all of his feelings are back. His frustration and helplessness.

“Get it together, Jesus…” he whispers under his breath.

Feeling he’s close to the cabin, he looks up.

And he stops dead in his tracks. He can’t believe what he’s seeing in front of his eyes.

His porch and front steps are all covered in seashells and rocks in all the colors in the world.

“Bucky,” he breathes.

He doesn’t even goes to inspect it. Instead, he drops his duffel bag and runs along shore. Runs to their spot. He stumbles at first because of the sheer shock that Bucky had been here.

Had Bucky forgiven him?

Steve runs and runs and runs.

Few seconds later and he can see the rock. Bucky’s favorite to hide behind. Back when he…

“Bucky! Bucky!” Steve cries out loud.

His heart is beating so fast. His muscles are burning. His breath is shallow and it’s not because of the running. The wind is hitting his face so hard. But it doesn’t matter.

“Bucky!”

He stops near the rock and looks out the sea. He wades in until the water is to his chest, feet still feeling the ground beneath his feet. He shivers at the cold water enveloping him but it doesn't stop him. He looks around for him. Putting his hands around his mouth, he shouts, “Bucky! Where are you?”

“You came back.”

Steve whips around fast and his breath catches upon seeing Bucky behind him. Ethereal and beautiful.

Except there’s something about him that is slightly different. His body is leaner. Almost thinner than the last time he’s seen him. There’s also something about his face that is different. That brightness or delight is absent.

Nonetheless, seeing him causes Steve to bark out a nervous, breathless laugh. He goes to step forward, wanting desperately to give him a hug but stops and holds back.

He's not sure what the protocol of his people is. He doesn’t want to scare Bucky. He just got him back. Treading carefully is what is needed now.

“Of course I came back.”

Bucky looks troubled and he frowns, shaking his head. “But you left.”

Then he swims toward Steve, shortening the distance a bit. “You said three days. It's been fourteen days.”

Steve’s heart flutter and he smiles back. “You heard me that day?”

Bucky blushes and quickly swims back a bit. Without looking Steve’s way, he replies, “I have a good hearing ability.”

Steve wants to ask: Why didn’t you show yourself then? Why didn’t you come up to say goodbye? Did you like the flowers? Why did you count the days? Why did you leave all those seashells at my cabin? But then he reminds himself that he’s rebuilding the trust between them. He can ask later because Bucky looks guarded and almost closed off.

And it bothers Steve. He doesn’t want that.

So Steve smiles widely. “How have you been?” he asks.

Bucky’s hands play with the water and Steve notices his nervousness.

He hates that too.

“I’m well.” Then he looks back at Steve. “And you?”

Steve nods. “Good.” Then looking at Bucky’s beautiful translucent eyes makes him shake his head in awe. “Actually, I’m much better now.”

Bucky looks surprised. “Really?”

Steve just stares at him, wondering how he ended up knowing this wonderfully innocent person. “Yeah, Bucky.”

“You’re not…” And a cloud of dismay masks his face. “Afraid?”

“Of what?”

“Of me.” Bucky sneaks a look at Steve before focusing on the water that is swirling between his fingers, almost dancing. “Of what I am.”

“Bucky, no.” Steve takes two heavy steps in the water toward him. “What you are is my friend.”

That gets Bucky’s attention and he looks up at Steve, astonished.

Steve shrugs. “Now why would I be afraid of my friend?”

“Truly?” And Bucky swims closer and closer.

Steve holds his breath as he gazes upon a very bright face. The brightness is back. Bucky has laughing eyes and Steve just discovers this. They show joy and it baffles Steve how handsome he is. He could draw him forever and won’t do him justice.

All Steve does is nod.

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief then gnaws on his lower lip. “I don’t want to lie. I was afraid of you too. Of you knowing.”

Steve doesn’t trust himself if Bucky keeps looking at him this way. All concerned and vulnerable.  He desperately needs to hug him and tell him that he's safe here. With him.

But he can't do that now. He just got him back.

“Wait here,” Steve says after clearing his throat. “Give me few minutes.”

Steve starts swimming back to shore. He's shaking but he doesn’t care. When he looks over his shoulder, he finds Bucky looking conflicted.

“Leaving so soon?”

And Steve stops mid-way at the tone in Bucky’s voice. It’s full of …Frustration? Fear?

He holds his gaze. “I’ll be right back. Just…just wait for me.”

Steve then reaches shore and runs back to the cabin, not really registering the chilly wind and his shaking body. When he reaches the cabin, he beelines for the abandoned duffel bag and picks it up. Then he heads to the cabin, making sure his feet don’t crush any of the seashells on the porch and at the door. He’ll get to them later.

He has a mission. To win back Bucky. Bucky’s full trust. Bucky’s friendship.

And he has an idea of how to do that. He just hopes it works.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give them a listen. They're gorgeous!
> 
> [Autumn Leaves by Nat King Cole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEMCeymW1Ow)
> 
> [Answer Me, My Love by Nat King Cole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsOnvsf6zBM)


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

Steve gets inside the cabin carrying his duffel bag with him all the way to the kitchen area. He deposits it there. His heart is beating erratically and he’s breathless. Unzipping the bag, he pulls out the homemade blueberry muffins Peggy gave him. He pulls all three and goes to make coffee.

While letting it brew, he runs upstairs to look for a blanket. He finds a checkered one for picnics. “Perfect! Thanks ma.”

He’s laughing as he runs down the stairs and he almost slips on the floor. Then he remembers his wet clothes. So he goes back up and takes them all off. He wears clean jeans, white t-shirt and gray sweater.

He checks himself in the mirror and fixes his hair. Then he pauses. A blush colors his cheeks at what he's doing. He leaves the bathroom and runs back downstairs.

Few minutes later Steve pours the coffee in a thermos flask. After making sure it’s secure, he remembers that he doesn’t have a basket.

So he looks hurriedly through the kitchen cabinets. When he doesn’t find anything, he resorts to his duffel bag. He flips it upside down and clumsily empties it. All his stuff come undone on the floor but he doesn’t have time to care for it. He stuffs it with the picnic blanket, the muffins, the flask and two mugs. Then his eyes land on the cotton worn-out blanket on the blue couch. He grabs it and gently folds it before putting it inside the bag.

He turns off the coffee maker and then remembers to carry his sketchbook and notebook, so he can show Bucky London. He laughs nervously in excitement and in his haste, he forgets to close the door. So he goes back and closes it. Then he’s walking as fast as he could while juggling all of his stuff.

Steve keeps muttering under his breath, “Please be there, please be there.” Like a mantra.

When he gets there, he puts the bag gently on the sand. Then he pulls the checkered blanket out and spreads it. He’s glad that it’s big enough for the both of them. Then he sits on his knees and before he can pull anything else out, he hears him.

“Steve?”

He looks up and sees Bucky, hiding behind his favorite rock, eyes darting between Steve’s hands and the set up. He looks confused yet curious.

“Hey!”

And Steve stands up and walks up closer, making sure only his feet are in the water. He needs his clothes dry for this.

He smiles. “You owe me a cup of coffee, remember?”

Bucky looks more confused. “I don’t understand.”

Steve chuckles and tries not to blush as he explains, “Uh…I wanna…I’m inviting you to sit with me. Have some coffee. You have to try it.”

Bucky’s eyes dart around and Steve quickly assures him. “Don’t worry. No one is around.”

“Alright.”

Then Bucky swims toward him before he stops abruptly.

Steve frowns and prays that Bucky hasn’t changed his mind. “What is it?”

Bucky's eyes look directly at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, there’s no one around. This is my property-“

Bucky rolls his eyes. “No, I…are you sure…about me coming out of the water? Be out on shore?”

Steve feels his ears ringing. This is it. He's going to see Bucky. His full form.

“Yeah. Of course,” he replies nonchalantly.

Then he realizes that they are both still not moving. Bucky’s hesitation jerks him back to react. Do something.

“Do you want me … to carry you here?” Steve asks stupidly, hands shaking a bit. He can’t let that show so he opens his palms and closes them twice, three times.

Suddenly, there’s water splashed on his face. Steve nods, resigning to the fact that he is an idiot. “Okay. I get it.”

“I’m not incapable, Steve.”

A chuckle escapes Steve as he wipes the water off his face. When he looks back at Bucky, his breath catches.

Bucky has crawled his way out of the water, his upper _human_ body is visible but the lower one is still submerged. Not invisible though. Steve can literally see it under the water. It’s almost sparkling. Shimmering.

And the colors are...Steve doesn't even think any artist can find these shades of blue and turquoise.

_Oh my..._

Without uttering anything, Steve crouches and sits on his haunches. He has felt rude to be standing while Bucky is getting out of the water. He doesn’t want to make the whole thing awkward. It’s a courtesy that Bucky deserves. He's getting out of his world to be in his. It's the least he could do.

Bucky looks at him, a warm smile decorates his blushing face as he continues to make his way to the blanket.

Not only is the tail sparkly, beautiful and shimmering, but it’s also _huge_. It takes Steve a second to comprehend that a merman is right in front of him.

Half human. Half fish.

“Overwhelming?”

Steve jerks back and flushes when he sees Bucky observing him. The guy is literally exposed and vulnerable and now is not the time to freak out. He lets out a shaky breath then chuckles nervously. “A bit.”

Bucky casts his eyes down, slightly flushed. And Steve studies him. It’s the first time they’re at eye level. On land.

“I felt the same way when I first saw your kind,” Bucky admits, shrugging.

Steve raises his brow. “Yeah?”

Bucky nods. “They were on a ship. My friends had to drag me down underwater so no one would see me.”

“I thought I was your first,” Steve says, chuckling.

Bucky shakes his head, smiling. “That day I had to make sure you weren’t dead. You were deep under. Not moving.”

He's finally out of the water completely. He sits with his hand supporting himself as he lays his other hand on his tail. The fins are moving around and Bucky is moving the end of his tail behind his back. As if he’s trying to protect it from Steve and shielding Steve too at the same time.

He looks uncomfortable and Steve sighs.

“Come on,” Steve urges softly as he pats the blanket. “Come here.”

“I don’t want to ruin your…” His eyes land on the checkered blanket.

And Steve flails. “No, no, no. It’s okay. It’ll dry, no problem. And I brought another one…in case you get cold.”

Bucky looks between Steve and then the soft blanket before hauling himself up.

Steve finds himself staring unabashedly at Bucky. He looks more ethereal than before, otherworldly. What’s making it worse is that he’s looking at Steve now from under his long lashes, shy at the staring.

_Fuck! Get a grip, Rogers!_

“Uh-Okay. Let me get you…” and Steve stammers and forgets what he’s looking for as he rummages through the duffel bag. The clank of mugs reminds him.

“Coffee! Yes. Right.”

He feels Bucky’s eyes on his back. Steve feels his face heat up and suddenly he’s too aware of everything around him. The chilly breeze, the calm crashing of waves, and the sand underneath him.

“Do you want…” Bucky says in a small voice. “I can go back in the water-“

“No!” Steve turns around sharply. He’s so ashamed. “No, Bucky. I’m…I just. Give me a second.”

He takes a deep breath, rubbing his face with his shaky hands. Then he nods slightly to himself before getting the flask.

“Here.” He pours hot coffee in both mugs that are now settled on the sand. When Steve turns to hand him one, he notices Bucky trying to bury his tail.

“Are you cold?” Steve asks. “I brought a blanket.” And he pulls the woolen one from the duffel bag.

“No. I never get cold,” Bucky answers earnestly.

“Right. Then…” Steve is slightly confused.

“You look uneasy. It must be my tail, maybe I can…”

Steve’s eyes almost fall out of his head. “Oh my God, no Bucky,” and without even giving a thought, he reaches with one hand and moves the sand covering part of the scales.

A soft gasp escapes Bucky and Steve realizes that he has touched him. Touched his scales.

He quickly pulls away.

_Oh my God. These are scales. Scales!_

Steve looks up, gulps and then casts his eyes down. “Uh, Sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

Steve looks up and sees Bucky’s soft smile. So he smiles back and nods. Then he turns back and sits next to Bucky. They’re close like they're going to share a meal.

He goes back to pick the mugs and is very much aware of Bucky’s frown and puzzlement at the task at hand. He tries to not giggle at how endearing he looks.

“Here,” Steve hands him the mug. “This is coffee. I drink it every day.”

“Do you have to?”

Steve smiles. “No. It’s just I love it. It tastes great. It energizes me. Go ahead.”

Bucky stares at the mug Steve is handing him. To say he’s puzzled is an understatement.

“Oh, here. Hold it this way.” And Steve shows him. “It’s hot so be careful.”

Bucky looks determined and takes it from Steve. It’s the first time that Steve notices his hands. Those dangerous nails that marked him aren’t there anymore. What’s there instead are webbed hands instead. So transparent, almost not there at all between the fingers.

“Like this?” Bucky asks, eyes inspecting the mug.

“Yup. You got it.” Steve sips his coffee and relishes the taste.

Bucky brings it to his lips and then takes a sip just like Steve. Then he frowns. He takes another sip and then grimaces.

Steve chuckles. “You don’t like it?”

Bucky shrugs. “No. I don’t understand it. It tastes…not good.”

Steve shakes his head and takes the mug back. He puts it aside and pulls out one of the muffins that Peggy had baked for him.

“Here. This is a blueberry muffin. A sweet thing. Peggy baked it for me.”

“Your close friend?” Bucky looks tense all of a sudden.

Steve nods as he hands one to him. He unwraps it before handing it over. His fingers brush Bucky’s and they’re warm. Steve has that sudden want to hold it in his. Maybe kiss it.

He shakes his head from these stupid and rash thoughts and nods toward him. “Go ahead. Take a bite. They’re very delicious.”

Bucky takes a bite and chews. His eyes sparkle in joy. “Mmmm. This is heavenly!”

“Yeah? I’ve got more of them.” He turns to dig in the duffel bag. He carefully pulls two more muffins, one for him and one for Bucky. But when he turns back to Bucky, he pauses as he sees that Bucky has already gulped the entire muffin.

Bucky blushes and then shrugs. “It was better than coffee.”

Steve laughs and then gladly gives the two muffins to him.

“You don’t want any?” Bucky takes the two, already munching on one of them.

“Take all what I have,” Steve replies. He’s surprised by how much he means that. He clears his throat and looks away.

His eyes catch the notebook and sketchbook he brought back from London. He picks up the journal first and folds his legs under him.

All of a sudden, Bucky asks, “Why did you go for so long?” There's a touch of sadness in his voice.

Steve stills before turning to his left. He finds Bucky has inched closer. His sad and questioning eyes are searching Steve's face.

“I was…scared of coming back and finding out you’re still not around here.” Steve waves his hand at the sea before his eyes.

“I thought you were ill.”

Steve frowns and turns to find Bucky’s troubled face. He wants to touch that frown on his forehead and ease it away. “The seashells…”

Bucky nods, blushing a bit. He looks away. “I tried to listen for something inside but…then I realized that you may have left. Forever.” Then he looks up, eyes shiny. “I kept bringing them to your cabin every day. Praying.”

Steve feels himself getting lost in his eyes. His heart aches at the admission. He wants to tell him that he’s sorry. He’s sorry for leaving…for not waiting. For not being able to swim to the depth to find him.

Instead, he confesses something else. Softly. “I was praying too.”

“For what?” Bucky asks so quietly Steve's skin breaks into goosebumps.

The words just tumble out of Steve's mouth. “For you to come back. To see you. To forgive me. To give me another chance.”

Bucky stares at him, right through his soul and Steve’s heart falls. He’s suddenly scared of what’s transpiring between them at this second. So he turns and pretends to rummage through the bag knowing that there isn't anything else inside.

“Uh…um did you get the flowers?” he asks, voice barely strong.

“Yes! Oh Steve, they are the most beautiful creatures,” Bucky exclaims loudly and gleefully, Steve can’t help but glance back. He sees him clasping his hands together.

Steve turns back. “Yeah? I’m glad.” 

“The human world…your world is full of beautiful things,” Bucky admits dreamily.

Steve snorts. “Yeah. But we sure don’t know how to take care of them. We…humans have ruined a lot of things. They still do.” Then when he looks over at Bucky, he sees total concentration but there's that innocence and eagerness…maybe he shouldn’t let him down.

“So you really liked the flowers?”

“Yes. I buried them so they wouldn’t be tarnished.”

“Oh.” Steve is trying to find that right moment and words to tell him that he shouldn’t bury them. But the way Bucky looks, all excited and happy stops him from doing that. He just enjoys his enthusiasm with a smile on his face.

“But when I check on them from time to time, they seem…to be changing. Almost like paling.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you new ones,” Steve blurts and can’t help himself. “Just…don’t bury them next time.”

Bucky tilts his head aside, wheels probably turning in his head. Then Steve watches in horror as Bucky’s eyes fill with tears.

“Oh…I didn’t...”

“No, no. Bucky it’s okay. They weren’t gonna live long anyway. It’s not your fault.”

He holds Bucky’s hands in his without realizing it. He rubs them and Bucky seems to be calming down a bit.

Changing the subject, Steve says, “So…here’s another reason I stayed in London for that long.”

And Steve opens the notebook where he wrote to Bucky.

“Is it where you keep your drawings?” Bucky asks, enthusiastically.

Steve shakes his head and then opens on the first page. “I wrote to you. Just telling you about the city…”

He can feel Bucky scooting closer and Steve’s eyes notice the fins are closer to his feet. Not touching though. He makes the mistake of turning to look at Bucky and finds his face closer than he thought. Very much invading his personal space.

Steve gulps as he looks at those translucent eyes. That gorgeous mouth.

“Read it,” Bucky mutters softly. Then his beautiful eyes glance at the notebook. “Read to me.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers, ready to do whatever he wants. He smiles widely at Bucky before starting.

 

They spend the rest of their time with Steve reading and Bucky listening. Very attentively. Paying attention to every word Steve is saying and then asking questions after every journal entry. And Steve answers them gladly.

He reads to him about everything he wrote in that trip. Description of Covent Garden, his walk through Leicester Square and hearing the loud bell of Big Ben. Everything. He also shows him the sketches of Peggy’s house, little Sarah, Big Ben and the London Bridge and other buildings.

It is nearing sunset when Bucky looks toward the sea. Steve pauses in the middle of telling the story of when he and little Sara tried baking.

“Bucky. What is it?”

Bucky doesn’t look back at Steve and tenses. “I have to go back. I’ve been gone for too long…I don't want my father to send his men to search for me. He doesn't like my absence.” Then he turns to Steve, smiling sadly. “And that’s never good.”

Steve frowns and puts away his sketches and notebook when Bucky starts moving. His fins brushes against his feet and Steve shivers a bit but hides that from Bucky.

Steve sits on his knees. “Does he know you're on land?"

Bucky shakes his head. "If he did, the sea wouldn't be this calm."

Steve remembers right then the storm inside the sea that night. When he found out Bucky is a merman.

"So he doesn't sense that? Last time, you sensed him when your uncle-"

“We only sense each other in extreme distress." Bucky gnaws on his lower lip. "I'm not at all distressed, Steve.”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up and he looks at his hands, inspecting them for no reason. “Well, I hope you don’t get into trouble anyway.”

When he looks up, Bucky smirks at him. “Don’t worry, Steve. I’m his favorite.”

They both smile at each other before Bucky turns and crawls toward the water. When half of him is submerged, Steve calls out.

“Wait."

Bucky turns, hands playing with the water.

Steve can't believe what he's about to say. He feels like a kid. “Will I see you tomorrow? Can you-“

“Of course.” Bucky smiles and nods. “I’m always around, Steve. All you have to do is show up here. I’m…”

Steve is hanging on every word when Bucky’s cheeks redden. Without finishing what he's about to say, Bucky very swiftly dives in the water and doesn't pop up again.

The scene of him diving in all his glory takes Steve's breath away. He pinches himself just a little to make sure that he hasn’t imagined it.

“Oh my God…” He breathes.

 

~.~.~

 

That night Steve relaxes on the couch, feet on the coffee table as he watches videos of how to bake muffins. He takes notes and reminds himself that he needs to hit the grocery store tomorrow morning.

Nat King Cole is playing and Steve moves his feet to the rhythm of the music.

 

**_What a day this has been_ **

**_What a rare mood I'm in_ **

**_Why, it's almost like being in love_ **

 

**_There's a smile on my face_ **

**_For the whole human race_ **

**_Why it's almost like being in love_ **

 

Steve feels his heart beat faster at how the lyrics truly hit home.

“I’m not in love…” he mutters under his breath.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Almost Like Being in Love by Nat King Cole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpNTiiDtrak)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.

 

 

Steve stands the next morning in front of the oven, staring at a failed attempt at baking blueberry muffins. It’s the second batch and it looks pitiful.

“What am I missing?” he mutters as his finger dips in the crumbled muffin. He has followed the recipe to a tee. He rubs his face tiredly and makes a decision. He needs to buy some sweets for Bucky when he meets him later.

A smile creeps up his face when he remembers that he will see him. A glance at the sea makes him smile more for it looks more beautiful and serene today.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

He wanders around town in the afternoon, almost skipping his way around. Luckily, he finds a small bakery. After chatting with the lovely old lady, he decides to go with her recommendations and picks the pineapple cupcake. He decides that he’d pick a flavor for every day. His cheeks color as he catches himself planning way ahead in the future for his encounters with Bucky.

“Do you want it wrapped, lad?”

“Huh?” He shakes his head and chuckles nervously. “Yes. Um…make it a blue ribbon, please.”

He carries the box with him and buys other stuff he needs for his fridge. The smile doesn’t leave his face all the way back home.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve bites his lower lip as he sketches furiously on the last page of his sketchbook.

“Don’t you want some, Steve?” Bucky asks, devouring the third cupcake that Steve got him today.

“Nope,” Steve answers then looks up. Bucky looks content, smiling widely at the box on his lap. “All yours. I got my coffee. “ And he raises his mug and giggles at the look of disgust on Bucky’s face.

He tries to finish quickly but then Bucky is trying to take a peek. “What are you drawing?”

“No!” Steve covers the page with his hand, chuckling. “Let me finish first.”

“Let me see.” And Bucky crawls effortlessly to sit next to him, his chin almost resting on Steve’s shoulder.

And Steve pauses, the pencil making a sudden random line on the page. He laughs nervously. “Now I can’t finish it with you moving around.”

Bucky is quiet and reaches for it around Steve and runs his fingers over the paper. “You are truly a magician,” he says, amused.

Steve turns slightly to his left only to hold his breath when he realizes that Bucky’s cheek is mere inches away from his lips. He wants to breathe but can’t find the will to expand his lungs lest this moment passes. The sharp cheekbones, the colorful spots on his neck and those long eyelashes…

_Fuck!_

Steve looks away quickly, trying not to burst into flames and trying really hard not to break his pencil.

“It’s just…I mean-sorry-it’s-”

“I can make a better face, Steve. This is too amusing.”

Steve halts. “You don’t mind posing for me?”

“Well, I can do it without food in my mouth. I look famished.” He giggles as he glances back at the sketch.

Steve is thrown off by the musicality of the laugh itself. He finds himself back to staring, unable to slow down his crazy beating heart. Bucky then moves back to his old spot in front of Steve. He checks the box and flips it upside down.

“Oh, I guess I was really famished.” Then he looks up at Steve and shrugs. “Tomorrow?” Bucky asks.

Steve flails. “Yeah, sure I’ll get you more muffins.”

“No.” Bucky’s cheeks flush. “Posing for you.”

Steve nods without hesitation, almost in a trance.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve doesn’t wait for Peggy to say anything.

“He wants to pose for me,” he hisses as he hurries inside the cabin and closes the door forcefully.

“Pardon?”

“I mean…I don’t know why or how he just…it’s too much, you know…I can’t-"

“Slow down, Steven. Who is asking you?”

“Bucky! The friend I told you about.”

“Oh my. Steven Grant, you move fast,” Peggy teases and he can honestly feel her smirking. “And what an odd name. Short for what, I wonder.”

“What?” Frowning, he moves around the couch quickly that he bumps his toe on the leg of the table. Instead of swearing and sitting down, he actually paces erratically. “That’s _so_ not the issue right now, Pegs.”

“Is it a nude one?”

“No! What? Peggy!”

_Come to think of it, he will be? Isn’t he already?_ He shakes his head.

“Well, you are freaking out, so I just assumed…”

Steve pauses and takes a deep breath. A much needed one. “Well, let’s say shirtless.”

Peggy whistles. “I’m still impressed, Steven. You’ve sharpened your skills, I see.”

He lets out a long sigh and makes sure she hears it.

She laughs of course.

“Darling, you’re overreacting. It could be innocent. He saw your sketches-which I’m sure you showed him like the showoff you are-"

“I’m not-"

“Consider it a client and a commission. Easy.”

She could be right. He nods. Then remembers she’s not there. “Right.”

“Well, I better go. I’m attending a conference. Enjoy your session.”

He can feel her wink all the way from London.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve spends the night preparing for tomorrow's sitting. Getting out his best pencils and a new sketchbook.

"It's gonna be fine," he says to himself before gulping his beer.

Yet, he has a hard time sleeping.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“I want to listen to the music you play at night,” Bucky says excitedly.

Steve smiles. “Okay.”  

He sits as Bucky hauls himself up on a near rock, way deep inside the shore so Steve doesn’t have to get wet. Upon Steve’s instructions, Bucky lies on his stomach, sprawled on the shiny dark boulder.

Steve smiles as he settles himself on the blanket not too far away from his subject. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. It's not the first time he's ever sketched someone. He'd sketched his friends so many times. This shouldn't be different. His damned beating heart tells him a different story though. But he dismisses it and picks up his iPhone and scrolls until he reaches Nat King Cole’s album. It's the only thing he plays at night. He clicks on 'shuffle' and 'play'.

The music starts and Steve regrets that he hit 'shuffle'.

 

**_You_ **

**_Stepped out of a dream_ **

 

“Shit,” Steve says under his breath and feels his face warm up.

 

**_You are too wonderful_ **

**_To be what you seem_ **

**_Could there be eyes like yours?_ **

**_Could there be lips like yours?_ **

**_Could there be smiles like yours_ **

**_Honest and truly?_ **

 

Steve’s ears ring and he feels his face start to flush. He must be red. He doesn’t even think of looking up. He needs a second to compose himself. Clearing his throat, he sketches randomly over the page before looking up. Luckily, Bucky’s eyes are closed and the only indication that he’s enjoying the music and not being weird about it is the movement of his tail. The huge fins are dancing round to the beat.

Steve sighs in relief. His eyes linger a bit on that face. That peaceful look on that joyful face.

The music continues luckily without anymore lyrics. Steve starts with sketching the rock first, just a simple outline, wanting to just have a basis before he begins on Bucky. He’s very much in the zone, sketching just the outline of Bucky's upper body when he realizes that the lyrics are back and making his heart rate speed up.

He soldiers on.

When the song finishes, he lets out a long breath and grabs his phone to pick a harmless one. 'Mona Lisa'. There’s no harm in that song, he thinks.

“Who is Mona Lisa? Is she his beloved?” Bucky asks as he settles his cheek against his folded arm.

Steve chuckles as he sketches the outline of the tail. “No. It’s a painting. A famous one. It's one of the most famous paintings of all time.”

“Oh.”

The violins continue, leaving an unreal atmosphere. It’s like they’re transferred to a place that only belongs to them. A place where they’re the only ones there. Nothing else exists. Nothing else matters.

When Cole finally belts out the last note and sings her name, Bucky lets out a long sigh.

“He has an angelic voice,” Bucky comments.

“That he does,” Steve agrees. “My mother loved his music so much. I used to listen to him with her but didn’t like it.”

“And now?”

“I can’t stop listening to him. He’s amazing. There’s this…something about his voice.”

“Warmth.”

Steve looks to the sea. “Yeah…but there’s also…”

“Melancholy.”

He turns back and sees that Bucky’s facial expression has changed. He looks sad. Eyes still closed.

Steve gnaws on his lips, wanting to ask but resigns to sketching. He continues to do so and his hand and fingers move swiftly on the paper. Steve doesn’t even listen anymore to any of the music playing. A song plays after another and almost two hours have passed and Steve still isn’t done with Bucky’s face. 

He finally tunes in to what’s playing when Bucky begins humming and moving his fins around.

 

**_Let there be you_ **

**_Let there be me_ **

**_Let there be oysters_ **

**_Under the sea_ **

 

Steve notices Bucky smiling and he finds himself smiling too.

“I like this one," Bucky says softly through a very warm smile. "Wish I could tell him there are more than oysters down there.” 

 

**_Let there be birds_ **

**_To sing in the trees_ **

**_Someone to bless me_ **

**_Whenever I sneeze_ **

**_Let there be cuckoos_ **

**_A lark and a dove_ **

**_But first of all, please_ **

**_Let there be love_ **

 

Steve gulps as he sees Bucky stop moving his tail.

 

**_Let there be love...Hmmm love_ **

 

He tries to continue sketching but he can’t stop looking at Bucky. And when Cole sings the last note, pleading, Bucky opens his eyes, looking straight at Steve. Their eyes lock as the word ‘love’ is sung again.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

That night, Steve tries to finish the portrait as fast as he can so he doesn't endure this torture any longer. 

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

The next day Bucky seems to be in another world, for this time his eyes are open and he’s gazing at the sea. Steve told him earlier in the session that he can move his head and all he wants except for the tail. He's done with the face the day before and now all he wants to focus on is the tail. And he wishes that he had paint with him. He would have splashed so many amazing colors on a canvas just to get to that degree…but he doesn’t think he’d do it justice. Part of him wants to ask Bucky if he could stare at it from very up close but the thought of doing that…He shakes his head at his stupidity and continues.

“How do humans dance?”

Steve lifts his head up and sees Bucky waiting for him to answer, hand under his chin.

“Uh….I’m not the best person to ask that.” Steve grins and then shrugs.

Bucky frowns. “Why?”

“Because I’m the _worst_. I don’t know how to dance. Used to drive my ma crazy. Peggy even got hurt one time. I stepped on her feet.”

“Oh,” Bucky says softly. 

Steve looks up and finds him staring at his fingers as they caress the surface of the rock. To say he’s disappointed is an understatement.

“I can show you other people,” Steve blurts.

Bucky snaps his head up. “How?”

Steve puts away the sketchbook and pencils and grabs his cell phone.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Steve says.

It takes seconds and Bucky is already getting comfortable next to him. It still baffles him how fast he is on land. The blanket sticks on his fins and he tries to pull it away when Steve quickly helps him.

He doesn’t know where to start but clicks on the YouTube app and types ‘dancing’ then deletes it.

“Sorry…there are so many…” and he looks up to find Bucky sitting too close to him. His face is invading his personal space. Steve looks down and types ‘Ballroom dancing’.

Those eyes are too romantic for anything else.

After they watch a couple of videos, Bucky starts asking Steve about this ‘small creature’. Steve giggles and Bucky follows. He ends up spending the rest of their time explaining to him what a 'cellphone' is and how it works.

They watch more videos with different dancing and Bucky, at first, looks entranced but then several videos later he looks subdued. Then sad.

“Hey,” Steve mutters. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky is staring at the phone screen even though Steve has stopped the video. “Your world. My world. They’re very different. Vastly so.”

Steve doesn’t know what to make of that. Of course they’re different. But why is he sad about it?

“Bucky?”

“Hmm.” Bucky’s eyes are cast down.

“Why don’t you show me how people dance in your world.” Steve doesn’t know why he said it but all he wants is to drive the sadness on Bucky’s face away.

Bucky’s eyes follow him, bewildered, as Steve stands up and takes off his clothes. It’s been a while since he swam in these waters. Last time was him enraged looking for Bucky.

_It’s fucking chilly, shit!_

But he doesn’t care. He starts wading in, only in his boxers, not daring to look back. Steve feels his cheeks burn as he motions for Bucky to follow him. “Come on.”

He swims and swims before turning around to find the shore vacant. He turns back toward the sea and startles when Bucky is in front of him.

Steve chuckles. “You’re so fast!”

Bucky isn’t laughing. “I can’t show you. You’d have to be underwater.”

“I can hold my breath for longer than normal,” Steve says shakily.

Bucky’s eyes are roaming his face. “You’re shivering. Are you cold?”

“Nah. No. Yes.” He moves his arms and kicks his feet to keep moving and moving, hoping to get the blood circulation going. “But I’ll warm up in few minutes. Let’s just swim, yeah?”

There’s this moment of calm serenity where the waves are making gentle, calming sounds. Bucky gnaws on his lips and swims closer and closer that Steve holds his breath.

“I can help,” Bucky whispers.

Steve can’t look anywhere but Bucky’s eyes. This beautiful creature is mere inches away from him. Suddenly, Steve is hyper aware of every single thing surrounding him. He’s just waiting. Anticipating.

Bucky lifts his hand and cups bit of water in his palm and lays it on Steve’s heart, opening the palm. The water cascades over his chest. Steve eyes the palm and then looks up at Bucky when he starts feeling very warm. It’s like the warmth is surrounding him. He feels like he’s in a warm bubble.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re the one who’s a magician, not me.”

Bucky smiles shyly. “No. Not at all. The water is generous toward me.”

“Do you control it?”

Shaking his head, Bucky explains, “Not at all. My father does-I mean-can. I…. rarely ask favors, but for some reason, the water obeys me.”

Steve can’t help but smile genuinely his way. “I can think of several reasons.”

Bucky tilts his head aside. Narrowing his eyes, he says, “You tease me?”

Steve waves his hand around. “I’m serious.”

“Go on then.”

Steve coughs at the request and then lets out a nervous laugh.

“Uh…well, you’re kind…gentle and intelligent…” and he embarrasses himself when he inhales a bit of water and he coughs, flapping around.

A warm arm wraps around his waist and pulls him up. He can feel the tail wrap gently around his ankle. Their faces are close together and Steve really wants to breathe, but…

_For the love of God!_

“And a far much better swimmer than you,” Bucky adds, smirking.

Steve shakes his head at him and shoves him away slightly, in jest.

“Sassy too.”

All he does next is stare in awe as Bucky giggles before ducking his head underwater. Only his gorgeous translucent eyes are peering at Steve.

_Those eyes will undo me._

“I’ll race you.”

This gets Bucky to pop up. “You know I will win.”

“Arrogant. You can add that to the list.”

Bucky winks and Steve almost inhales water again. But he has to save face and turns. So Steve does what he’s best at, second to writing. He swims and swims and swims. He’s feeling light and he laughs as he goes, knowing fully well that he can’t out swim a merman who is a creature of the sea. This is his world and Steve is merely a visitor.

Maybe because he’s out of practice, because the next thing that happens is that he gets a foot cramp, making him splash and halt.

“Ow. Ow. Shit! Time out,” he shouts to no one since Bucky is underwater. Steve hovers and tries to reach his foot with his hand. “Ow.”

Bucky looks concerned as he pops out of the water. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing. I just pulled a muscle.”

Bucky looks more puzzled than ever.

“My foot. Can’t move it,” Steve elaborates. Realization hits Bucky and then he dives, his tail almost brushing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s brows furrow and then he starts swearing as he realizes that Bucky is down there.

“Jesus Christ!”

Then he feels a gentle touch on his foot. He closes his eyes and calms his heart. “Why the fuck did I try to race him?”

Bucky pops back up. A sight every damn time.

“It’s okay, Bucky. It’ll go away in few minutes. You don’t have-"

“Can you try to float? You need to be horizontal…maybe it’s better.”

“Uh…okay.”

Steve lets go and then Bucky is at his foot. He takes it gently between his hands and it’s warm. Steve takes deep breaths and relaxes. When Bucky starts messaging it, he groans in content.

His eyes shoot open and then he rights himself, watching as Bucky lets go of his foot, looking puzzled.

“Was it not working?”

“No,” Steve replies, almost shouts. Then he wipes his face. It feels too warm around here. “No, it’s fine. I feel better. Thanks.”

“Okay.” Bucky then studies him.

Steve swims back a bit. “So.”

He’s buying time and trying to remember why he’s here. In the water.

“Hm?”

_Yes. The dancing._

“Come on, show me.”

“Show you what?” Bucky’s eyes avoid him.

Steve feels his foot has recovered so he swims to where Bucky is, which isn’t that far. “How your … how merpeople dance.”

Bucky turns and gives Steve a look he can’t decipher. More resignation. A hint of sadness clouds his beautiful eyes.

“It needs two partners,” Bucky mutters.

Steve tries to catch those eyes and when he does, he smiles. “Well, why do you think I’m here?”

“You can’t breathe underwater,” Bucky huffs, clearly irritated.

Steve finds it so endearing. “I can assure you that I can hold my breath for longer than normal. I was in a swimming team.”

Bucky looks hesitant for a moment then dives. Steve waits then feels a tug on his arm. He inhales, taking a deep breath before relaxing and letting himself sink.

And he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to forget what his eyes are witnessing. Bucky is glowing. In his element. It's a bit dark but Bucky's fins are sparkling beautifully in the water. Steve barely takes it all in before Bucky swims right up to his face. He has to remind himself that he can't gulp water. Not this time. 

He kicks water with his feet and his arms are moving gently. Bucky swims around him once before coming right back to face him and brushes his cheek to Steve's. The right one. Then the left one. Like giving two soft gentle kisses. 

Steve tries not to move when Bucky looks dreamily back at him. Not to lean in.

Then Bucky moves and swims around him until Steve feels him pause behind his back. His tail loops firmly around both his legs. Warm hands touches his back until they reach his shoulders. Steve can feel Bucky's face almost nuzzling the back of his neck. He really wants to breathe and not for lack of oxygen. No. It's because he can't help the conflicting feelings surging through him. Feelings of warmth, excitement, fear, serenity, want and need and maybe even...love. 

He can't just be in love. It's not possible to fall in love in such a short amount of time. And he can't possibly fall in love with a merman.

No. A man who's done nothing but bring joy to his life ever since he met him here.

His lungs burn and he wants to swim right back up. Bucky senses that and swims to face him, wrapping his arm around his waist, pulling Steve up.

They both pop out of the water with a splash and a loud gasp coming from Steve.

Steve takes deep breaths, wiping his face and rubbing his eyes of the stinging salty water. When he recovers, his heart thuds against his chest at the way Bucky is looking at him.

He's looking at him with open and raw expression on his face. All the feelings Steve has felt down there a minute ago are right there. On Bucky's face. Yet, the fear is the loudest of them all.

Steve finds himself frozen in his spot, wanting to comfort Bucky but having no courage to move.

"I..." Bucky mutters. "I must go."

"Bucky, wait."

He doesn't wait. He dives into the water, escaping.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“When did you know?” Steve says to the phone glued to his ear. It's three in the morning and he still couldn't sleep. He's even still wearing the same clothes from early in the afternoon when he swam with Bucky. Danced.

When everything went awry.

“Steve…what the hell?” Nat’s groggy voice comes. “You gotta remember the time-zone.”

“Please Nat,” his voice breaks and he’s shocked. He hears ruffling sounds like bed sheets being moved around.

“Steve. What’s wrong?”

He rubs his forehead and paces in the kitchen. “Nothing.” He rubs his eyes next, feeling them sting. “Nat, just tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“You and Clint. How did you know?”

There’s silence at her end. “Steve…” she’s placating and he knows that tone. 

“I really need you to give me an honest answer.”

“It’s…I guess it’s cliché but I just knew.”

“How?” he asks, desperately. He feels breathless and that his heart is gonna burst out. He finds himself touching his chest to calm and ease the pain there.

“It’s the way he looks at me. His eyes smile at me,” she explains, chuckling softly. “God, I sound so silly but…I just found myself not being able to stop thinking about him.”

He feels his lips quiver and his eyes water. 

"Steve?"

He realizes he can't stop thinking about Bucky. Ever since he met him, he's been the sole reason Steve lives the day. The reason for him to wake up and actually do enjoy the day.

It hits him so hard. The way he feels about him. How he anticipates all their meetings. How he enjoys all their conversations. How he can stare into that face and find joy, happiness and earnestness there. How his heart skips a beat every damn time Bucky looks his way or smiles his way.

He wipes his nose with his sleeves. "I gotta go."

"Steve, wait...what's the matter?"

"I..." he takes a deep breath but it comes out shaky. "I'll talk to you later."

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve waits for the sun to come up before running out the door and toward the sea.

He waits for Bucky. But he never shows up. Not for the rest of the day.

Not even the day after and the day after that.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [You Stepped Out of a Dream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Iod7NnpFH0)
> 
> [Mona Lisa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EG-A_qTAKEI)
> 
> [Let There Be Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_aJfZw3SA2c)
> 
> All by the great Nat King Cole


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Just wanted it to be right :)
> 
> You can check on the tag [Pearly Tears](http://isabellajack.tumblr.com/tagged/pearly-tears) on my Tumblr to see some inspo for this fic: gifs, pics, poems and quotes.

 

 

 

It’s been a week and there’s no sign of him.

Steve mopes around, not really knowing what to do about it. He’s been driving himself crazy, doing the same routine every day but to no avail. He’d wake up early-if he were even lucky enough to get some sleep-and go buy muffins. Then he’d spend most of the day on shore, reading or sketching, muffins untouched next to his mug of coffee.

But still. Bucky never shows up. And Steve has started losing hope.

He debates going for a swim. Just to draw him out. But …the water is Bucky’s home. His sanctuary. Who’s _he_ to impose.

So, everyday, he’d make sure his toes don’t dip into the water and just watches from afar. Hoping. Praying.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

A loud knocking wakes him up. Steve thinks he's dreaming but the knocking comes back and this time accompanied with a loud thud. 

"Bucky?" He gasps softly.

He falls off the bed and scrambles to get downstairs. He doesn't bother washing his face or putting on sweatpants. Running all the way downstairs, he trips over his sneakers that were thrown on the way to the door.

_Shit._

When he finally reaches the door, he opens it wide only to frown.

“Sam?”

He sounds more disappointed than surprised and Sam puts his hands up. "Wow. Be more welcoming, why don't you?"

Steve shakes his head and opens his mouth twice before finding the ability to construct meaningful words.

"I…I'm sorry. Come in."

Sam gives him a hug but Steve doesn’t hug back for he still feels disoriented. The appearance of his friend out of the blue has startled him. After he closes the door, he watches Sam drop his suitcase and look around. "Damn. You can actually put this up for rent. Sweet."

Steve rubs his forehead and then mutters behind his fingers. "What are you doing here? I thought-“

"I know. I know…but I missed you."

Steve narrows his eyes at him before folding his arms over his chest and pursing his lips. It’s clear for him now.

"Nat sent you."

Sam feigns shock. "What? No?"

"Cut the crap.” He walks and passes him to head upstairs. He stops before ascending the steps, hand on the wooden banister. Sam’s shoulders stiffen but he doesn't reply to that.

"I told you guys,” Steve stresses with irritation seeping into his voice. “I told you not to get involved, to leave me alone-"

"Okay. Shut the fuck up."

Steve’s eyes shoot up and he goes to fight back but Sam puts his hand up. "You can't do this to us, man, after the time we gave you."

"Excuse me?"

Sam shakes his head and scoffs, "You don't get to tell me or us not to worry about you. You've got no right to take that away from us. We gave you time, man. Now you're gonna let us have our time with you. Heck, we even let you mourn in another country. Alone! Don't you see how crazy that is?”

Steve casts his eyes down. He can feel Sam taking steps toward him.

“Any other sane friend won't do what we did but damn it we love you Steve. So, if I happen to be informed by Nat then I have every right to be here in _fuckin'_ Dublin to check up on you."

Steve looks up, surprised and very unaware of how his friends have felt. It’s a long minute of silence and a battle of staring before Steve sighs and gives up. His shoulders sag and he rubs his face again.

"You're right. God, I'm sorry. You just caught me off guard and at a bad time, that’s all."

"Yes but I also think you were expecting someone else."

Steve chews on his lower lip and decides to blurt, "Yeah but it doesn't matter."

Sam narrows his eyes at him before breaking into a lazy smile. "Come here, let's hug it out. For real this time."

Steve relaxes and walks up to his friend. Hugging him hard makes him feel all the familiar warmth and comfort that he’s been missing for a while.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

They go to a small restaurant in town for lunch. Steve has never been but it’s cozy and quiet enough for them to talk. He picks the booth that is away from the door, wanting to avoid as much noise as possible.

Sam orders food for them. Steve doesn’t have the appetite but Sam insists. He succumbs to his friend and orders. And it doesn’t take long before their food is at the table looking delicious and inviting.

Sam wipes his ketchup stained mouth with the napkin. “So, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“If you’re thinking there’s any sort of plot for a new novel then I’m afraid you’re gonna be disappointed,” Steve answers in a clipped tone.

Sam gives him a pointed look and Steve lowers his eyes in shame. “Sorry.”

“You do know why I’m the best literary agent, right?”

Steve sighs and puts his hands back in his lap. “Yes.”

“Come on, let me hear it.”

“You don’t pressure authors.”

“And?”

“You give them all the space and time for creativity.”

“And in your case?”

Steve looks at him and can’t help but give him a small smile. “You were my friend first.”

“Damn right.” Sam motions for the waitress to order more bread. Then he turns around back to Steve. “So, correct me if I’m wrong…this isn’t about Sara.”

Steve’s heart stops and he can feel his face drain of color. “What?”

“Because it goes against what Peggy told me.”

“Peggy?” He shakes his head in bewilderment and then he grimaces. “You were spying on me?”

“Relax, big guy. I stopped in London and wanted to catch up-“

“Yeah, right-“

“AND she said you were doing great. Handling everything swimmingly. Her words, not mine.”

Steve looks out the window, escaping those calculating eyes.

“Unless you were lying to her which I know you can’t do to save your life. Also, Peggy isn’t dumb.”

The waitress comes back with a full basket of bread and Sam gives her one of his flirty smiles which makes her blush before leaving their table.

Steve doesn’t know what to say. How can he begin to explain? What is he going to explain really? That he met a merman and is probably in love with him and that it’s impossible and he shouldn’t be having these feelings in the first place and how can he--

“Hey Steve, relax buddy. Take a deep breath…” Sam’s voice reaches him and he looks over and finds that Sam has moved and is sitting next to him, rubbing his shoulder. Steve finds that he’s breathing hard and is finding the place warm. Too warm.

“Sam…”

“It’s okay. Come on…let’s get you outta here.” And Sam signals the waitress to bring the bill.

“No, no, Sam. Finish your meal,” Steve says as he rubs his face and takes two deep breaths.

“It’s okay. You’re paying for my dinner though.”

Steve chuckles weakly as Sam helps him up.

They leave after Sam pays. Walking through the town is a bit relaxing and comforting, knowing that there is a life beside the sea. The calm serene yet cold sea.

“You feeling okay?”

Steve nods and puts his hands in his pockets, walking side by side with his friend.

“You looked like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Steve chuckles tiredly and rubs the back of his neck.

Sam kicks some pebbles on the way with his very expensive leather shoes. “Why don’t you come back with me to DC?” He sounds sincere.

Steve waits for few seconds before shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not? Just for few days or weeks…change of scenery-“

“I can’t. I don’t have it in me.”

They walk in silence the rest of the way to the cabin. When they are near the place, Sam suggests they walk along the shore. Steve gulps and nods. He shouldn’t be expecting anything really. Bucky hasn’t shown up for him alone, how will he show up when a stranger is with him?

He breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs with fresh air. His eyes are looking at the sparkling waves and wonders if Bucky is responsible for that.

He smiles at the thought and feels his heart fill with warmth.

“You know, suddenly Nat’s conversation with you does make sense now.”

Steve pauses and frowns Sam’s way who just smirks back. Then Steve shakes his head in resignation. “Of course she’d tell.”

Sam shrugs at him and puts his arm around Steve’s shoulders, hugging him a bit to his side. “You just smiled like you knew a secret I don’t.”

Steve chuckles. “You’re thinking too much.”

Sam pulls away and then picks up a sea shell to play with before resuming walking with Steve. “Come on…your secret is safe with me.”

Steve stops and Sam turns to stand in front of him. He’s looking very concerned and genuine and Steve finds himself deciding to at least offer some part of the truth. His eyes can’t help but look at the sea shell in Sam’s hand. It’s nothing like the ones Bucky gave him. It’s the same sea shell one would usually find on the beach.

But…he reaches out and takes it from him. He inspects it with his fingers before turning around and throwing it back to the sea.

“I just can’t leave the sea.”

Sam barks out a laugh and punches Steve in the shoulder who staggers back, letting out a nervous laugh.

“That’s it? You do know there are other seas on this planet. And the States happen to be surrounded by-“

“Shut up.”

And Steve walks off, making Sam run after him. “Wait, this isn’t a writer’s thing, is it?”

“No…I just…” and Steve turns to face Sam, slowing his steps. “I just…fell in love with the sea.”

He lets out a long audible breath of relief. He’s sort of admitting it to himself more than to his friend. It feels freeing. Refreshing. As if a weight is off his shoulders.

Sam pauses and then gives him the stink eye. Steve laughs earnestly this time. He misses this look. He would often receive them when Sam runs out of patience regarding meeting his deadlines.

But his friend isn’t stupid either. After a long staring contest, Steve turns around and resumes walking. Seconds later, he feels Sam walking right beside him.

“You mean,” Sam starts gently. “You fell in love with someone.”

Steve doesn’t look his way and continues walking and Sam right beside him, not asking anymore.

Steve hopes his friend understood his silence.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

The next morning finds them both jogging at the crack of dawn. Sam stops every few minutes to mesmerize by the view of the sparkling waters and the rising sun. “Damn it. That’s a view I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

Steve would nod and his heart would clench at the memory of who lives there. Down under the sea. And wishes he’s well.

They run and run all along shore, with Steve is winning every lap and laughing at the face Sam pulls every time he outruns him.

“You’re an asshole.” Sam is trying to catch his breath and then gives up. He sits down and then lies back, burying himself in the sand.

Steve chuckles and stands over him. “Getting old?”

Sam gives him the finger.

Feeling sorry for his friend, Steve sits down and pats Sam’s knee before facing the sea. He’s breathing deeply, trying to regulate his breathing after their exercise. Resting his elbows on his knees, he closes his eyes and lets the sound of waves drown everything around him.

Sam ruins it by jabbing him in the side. “Race ya!”

Steve opens his eyes and to his surprise he sees Sam running toward the water. He yells, “What are you doing?”

“Gonna swim. Why take a shower in the cabin when I can do it here. Come on man. Let’s see if you still got it.”

Steve tries not to look hesitant and act natural. “Sam I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s cold out there.”

“I’m sweaty,” Sam shouts as he takes off his hoodie, t-shirt and pants. When he's only in boxers, Sam runs and dives into the water. He shouts in joy as he splashes out of the water and starts swimming. Steve walks toward him until he’s close to the water but he doesn’t dare wade in.

Then he remembers. How Bucky made the water warm around him. How the water obeyed him. There’s this fear and excitement. Would the water tell Bucky? Would Bucky senses him as he gets in?

_But what if he wants nothing to do with me?_

“Sam, come on. I’m not getting in there,” he yells out loud so his friend can hear him.

“Of course you won’t," Sam shouts back. “You’re too old for the water, man”

Steve fidgets. Looking at the sparkling water near his feet and then looking back up at the vast sea, he makes up his mind.

Maybe this is the way to get to _him_. Steve hopes to at least get a glimpse or have a chance to talk. Set up a meeting. Something. He just wants to know if he’s okay.

He takes off his clothes and jumps in. When he reaches Sam, he jumps on him, ducking his head under. Sam flails around and Steve laughs and lets go.

“Just face it, Sam. You can’t beat me.” Steve laughs and puts his hands up, shielding himself, when Sam splashes his face.

“Fuck you, and fuck you,” Sam says pointing at him before swimming back to shore.

Steve frowns and Sam must’ve read his confusion for he huffs, “The first one for beating me at racing and the second one for drowning me.”

“Wow. A literary agent for so long yet don’t know how to construct meaningful-oh shit!”

And he laughs heartily as he swims far away from Sam who’s trying his best to catch him. But Steve is a pro. So he swims and then dives. Deep down.

He closes his eyes when he's way deep under water and before he comes up, he opens them to look around. _Maybe he’s here_. Maybe the water will tell Bucky.

And in total desperation and hopelessness he mutters under the water.

“Bucky…Bucky…”

When his lungs scream for oxygen, he swims right back up, his heart heavy.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

The next night they build a fire out on the shore. They huddle there as they roast some marshmallow.

“Okay. So you’re not gonna tell me her name?” Sam asks nonchalantly, eyes gazing at the fire.

Steve smiles his way before staring off at his marshmallow melting. “His name.”

He doesn’t look at his friend who in return doesn’t miss a beat.

“Alright. So you’re not gonna tell me his name?”

Steve’s heart hammers in his chest. He can share that information surely. There’s no harm in that.

“Bucky,” he answers softly. “His name is Bucky.”

Sam eats his marshmallow before chugging his beer.

“Where did you two meet?”

How can he answer that? In the water? Under the sea?

“Uh…around here,” he offers instead, avoiding Sam’s eyes.

“So he’s Irish?”

Steve ponders that for a second. “Umm not really.”

“Will I ever meet him?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What’s this? Is he royalty or something?”

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “Why would you say that?”

“You seem to be awfully guarded talking about this guy.” Sam then looks around before leaning toward a very confused Steve. “Listen, I’ve binge-watched The Crown. Those people are weird as shit when it comes to romantic entanglement.”

Steve pushes Sam away laughingly. “First of all, this isn’t the fifties.”

“You’d be surprised man.” Sam goes and opens another beer and hands it to Steve. “Here.”

Steve thanks him before pausing a bit. He remembers how Bucky had said that he was the youngest and is protected at all times. But that was as a consequence of his sister’s death. Then he remembers what Bucky said to the water...how it obeys him.

 

_I’m my father’s son…_

 

“So tell me about him then. Something. I’m trying here, buddy,” Sam says and pats Steve’s shoulder who shakes his head at the ridiculous thoughts.

“He’s…” Steve smiles and his heart aches at how much he misses him. “He’s very lively. Innocent. Fun. And beautiful…I can’t believe those eyes.”

The firewood crackles and the fire burns brighter. They both keep quiet until Sam speaks again.

“So what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You sound like you’re mourning him,” Sam comments quietly.

It hits Steve right in the gut. He looks away and puts his beer next to him. “I…It was never two sided. At least that’s what I’m seeing. We didn’t…I didn’t-"

“You didn’t tell him how you feel,” Sam helps him.

Steve runs his hand through his hair twice before huffing out a breath. “I haven’t seen him in almost two weeks now.”

Thankfully, Sam senses his sudden somber mood and doesn’t say anything.

He pats Steve’s shoulder blade twice before offering him his burned marshmallow.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

The next night Sam basically drags him all the way into town to a pub. It’s loud and crowded but Sam is having the time of his life and apparently wants Steve to join him.

So he drinks. And drinks. And drinks.

People are dancing to Irish folk songs and at one point a lovely old lady pulls Sam up to dance with her, who in return, pulls Steve up. And to his credit, he’s trying.

But he steps on people’s feet and falls twice before Sam takes pity on him and drags him outside. They both burst out of the door laughing loudly. They sing their way to the cabin, Steve almost falling several times. Sam ends up putting Steve's arm around his own neck and holds him to his side until they reach their place.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve barks out a laugh.

“What? it’s this way-where are you going?” Sam shouts, stumbling when Steve pushes away from him.

He trips on his way to the water. The cold water seeps into his shoes and he shivers a bit, but the alcohol running in his blood is warming him up. He thinks he hears shouting behind him but he doesn’t care.

When he's waist-deep into the water, Steve spreads his arms wide and yells, “Bucky! Bucky, come ooon…why won’t you visit? Why won't you come see me?”

He stumbles but miraculously maintains not falling fully into the water. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you…Come back, yeah? I’m sorry, I’m sor-"

And he falls in the water, inhaling some in the process, making him splash around. Sam pulls him out and he lets him. His friend struggles in straightening him up.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? What the fuck is the matter with you? Jesus Christ!”

And that tickles him. So Steve laughs. He laughs and clings to his friend as he drags him for the second time that night.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“I'm fine, I swear," Steve admits from under the blankets on the couch.

"Ah hah. And is that why you were running toward the water?" Sam sits on the coffee table in front of him.

Steve casts his eyes down. "It just... reminded me of him. It's beautiful...like him."

"Oh man, you're still drunk."

"No..." And he feels frustrated that he can't say anything else. But he can show Sam something.

He looks through the papers in his discarded sketchbook under the table. He gets the only one with Bucky's face. He clears his throat and then hands it over to Sam. He feels his heart beat fast and he holds his breath, waiting.

Sam frowns before accepting the paper in his hand.  “What’s this?”

Steve nods toward the paper, not trusting his voice. Sam hunches over and looks at the paper between his hands. Steve watches.

There’s confusion on his friend’s face before it transforms into bewilderment, shock and then wonder.

“Whoa.”

Steve hiccups. “Yeah.”

Sam turns the paper from a different angle before handing it back to Steve. “You sure you’re not exaggerating with the eye color and those cheekbones?”

Steve shakes his head. He’s proud of this portrait. It’s in charcoal except the eyes. He had colored them after days of trying to find the right combination of paint.

He clears his throat and holds the paper in his lap. Looking at it, he admits, “The sea reminds me of his eyes. Of him.”

When he looks up, he sees some sort of understanding on Sam’s face and a bit of sympathy.

And that makes him even sadder.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Sam leaves three days later only after Steve promises to call once a day so he be assured he's doing fine. He has promised to visit after a month and Steve better open the door for him wearing pants.

 

~.~.~

 

 

It's three weeks since he's last seen Bucky.

And it's weighing on him. He wants to scream.

Instead, he buys muffins and drags his blanket with him every day to spend it on shore, near that rock. He'd play Nat King Cole and lets the tunes fill the air around him as he sketches and reads.

And Bucky still won't show up.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

One day finds Steve sitting on shore until almost midnight. He's packed the uneaten muffins and closed his sketchbook and turned off the music. The sky is starry tonight and in spite of everything, Steve smiles widely at their beauty.

He lies back, arms crossed under his head, and watches the stars, mesmerized.

"Nothing beats nature's beauty," he mutters in awe.

Somehow he feels at ease and his frustration is ebbing away the longer he stares up at the sky.

In few minutes, his eyes droop and he wants to get up. He knows he should but sleep is more powerful than his will. It's enveloping him and in seconds he feels like he's drowning in darkness. In that lull of slumber.

His eyes close and he sleeps.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

At first, he thinks he's dreaming. But he can feel the sand between his fingers. He groans because he comes to the realization that he's slept on the beach. Out in the cold.

That's not what wakes him up though. There's something on his cheek. Something caressing it. He doesn't open his eyes because he doesn't know what to make of it. So he waits seconds before finally opening his eyes.

Instead of the starry sky, he sees Bucky's stormy blue eyes.

Steve's breath catches and he holds it. He must be dreaming. But Bucky smiles and then Steve notices that he has his hand caressing his cheek. So that was his hand. His warm gentle hand.

"Am I dreaming?" Steve whispers brokenly.

He waits with abated breath. He waits for Bucky to disappear. But he doesn't.

Bucky shakes his head. "No."

Steve nods slowly and gulps. He feels paralyzed and really doesn't want to move. He buries his fingers in the sand, trying to hold on. Not to lose this.

"You're cold," Bucky mutters softly.

"I..." Steve gulps again and breathes slowly. Carefully.

"You cannot sleep here," Bucky continues, eyes gazing onto Steve's face. His hand cups his cheek this time and Steve starts feeling warm. Warmth is running through his blood.

"I..." Steve tries again. His voice is breaking but he marches on. "I was waiting for you."

Bucky's face changes and he looks sad and looks away for few seconds before looking back at Steve. His hand moves from his cheek to the top of his head and swipes Steve's hair back. It makes him close his eyes.

It's so comforting.

"I'm here," Bucky says softly. "I'm here now."

Bucky goes back to touching his now warm cheek.

Steve opens his eyes and is looking up at that face, memorizing it lest he leaves again. He finds that he can't let that happen. He cannot handle it anymore. His hand reaches the one caressing his cheek and holds it, gripping it desperately. 

He feels his eyes water and it surprises him. "Please don't leave me. Please, Bucky."

Bucky shakes his head. "Steve..."

Steve sits up, pushing himself to hug him. He hugs him hard, burying his face in that black hair. "Please...I beg of you. Don't do that again."

And then he feels a hand grip his back, nails digging in his skin. "I won't, Steve. Never. Never again."

Steve breathes his scent. The sea and crisp air, dreams and something else...almost a flowery scent. He reaches with his hand and finds himself burying it in that long dark hair. It clicks in his brain what he's doing and withdraws. Slowly. Gently. His cheek brushing Bucky's. 

When their eyes meet, Steve feels the world could melt away and he'd be happy. Just staring into those eyes. 

Without any awareness or processing his thoughts, he blurts, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Their arms are still tangled together and Bucky let's out a huff of a breath, a relief, before he leans over and noses Steve's cheek. 

Steve let's him. Oh he lets him. 

"Steve..." he whispers. 

Steve doesn't know if this gesture means more to his people than to humans or the other way around. It's intimate. Very intimate. So Steve makes up his mind and wants to show him. He really wants to. 

"Bucky..." he whispers, his lips accidentally touching the side of his neck. 

"I didn't know. I wasn't-I've always been-I was never sure-"

And Bucky moves Steve's head to the other side so he can nose the other cheek and Steve is breathing heavily at the softness and gentleness of this tender gesture. And he wants to convey all that he's feeling. All that's been bubbling inside of him for so long. The things that he had come to terms with during those past three weeks.

Supporting himself with his right hand, feeling it buried slightly in the sand, he pulls back from Bucky and holds his chin between thumb and forefinger, keeping him still. They look at each other for few seconds before Steve's eyes land on those pink lips. He can feel the soft puffs of breath on his face before he leans closer, testing. His nose brushes Bucky's slightly before he tilts his head to the right and touches his lips to his.

And it's like everything fades away yet comes back crashing into him. It's quiet and loud. Warm and cold. So right and settling. He finally feels the ground firm beneath him. His world isn't tilting on its axis. He doesn't feel lost anymore. 

He's found.

He exhales slowly through his nose and presses once and twice before pulling back. He gulps, waiting, for he can't read Bucky's face. Do they even kiss down there? His stupid brain supplies him. Maybe he doesn't feel the same way...

And Bucky just smiles brightly before throwing himself at Steve, mouth chasing him, causing them to fall on the sand, crashing. Bucky kisses him deeply and enthusiastically and Steve doesn't complain. His back hits the sand and his arms circle around Bucky's back holding him against him as he deepens the kiss.

He moans and grips Bucky's shoulder blades, welcoming Bucky's weight on him. Their chests are exploding and meeting. Bucky's hands are around Steve's face, as if afraid to let go. It's a long and deep kiss and Steve breaks it to breathe. He gasps loudly. 

"Oh, sorry-" Bucky starts but Steve stops him. 

"No, no, you're perfect." And he cups the back of Bucky's head and pulls him toward him, their lips meeting together again. This time it's almost chaste and tender. 

When they break apart, Steve smiles up at him and Bucky looks almost giddy. He starts peppering soft kisses all over Steve's face. 

The sky above is glimmering with the stars but all Steve care about is the man above him. He lets out a long sigh as his hands leisurely run over his back. He's receiving kisses on his forehead, eyes, cheeks, chin and under his lower lip...that small spot of skin when he hears Bucky whisper heatedly over and over, "Oh my beloved..."

And those three words hit him right in the chest. His heart skips and skips in excitement and fear. He feels his skin tingle and his hands shake as they lift to pull Bucky's face away from his. 

Both of them breathe hard and then Steve looks at him. Gaze in those eyes. And he wonders why he didn't pay attention sooner. The adoration, the tenderness and love is radiating off this man and directed at him. For him and him only. 

His chest tightens but not in fear. It's in realization. In confirmation. He's very sure. Very sure of it.

His voice turns into a whisper, "You're my beloved too. Only you."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may add another chapter to this because I've got looong pages planned. Oh and here's the [photoset](http://isabellajack.tumblr.com/image/169160028116) I created for this fic.
> 
> And I'm obsessed with The Crown ;P


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.  
> There's a bit of homage to The Little Mermaid ;)

 

 

 

 

Steve feels content, looking up at the sky with his hand running up and down Bucky's back.

He's still lying in his arms, right on top of Steve. The light fins brush his feet from time to time and it doesn't feel strange at all.

“Your heart…” Bucky speaks softly and rests his palm over Steve’s chest. “It’s…beating fast.”

Steve smiles and gulps before covering Bucky’s hand with his. “I’m happy.”

Bucky pulls up but not too far and looks down at Steve. He presses his hand harder on his chest then spreads his fingers. “I can sense it. Happiness. Joy. Freedom.”

Steve sighs and just stares up at the beautiful face gazing lovingly his way.

“All because of you,” he whispers.

Bucky shakes his head and blushes. He then looks at him from under those long lashes, those eyes almost seeing through him. “You are a magician with your words. I forget."

Steve laughs heartily before propping himself up with his elbow while his other arm wraps around Bucky's neck, bringing their lips together.

They kiss and kiss and kiss before they pull away. But Steve feels like he can't get enough. So he kisses Bucky's cheek, and then starts sucking on his jaw, making Bucky moan and start breathing hard.

It drives Steve crazy.

"I must go," Bucky whispers heatedly but with a touch of sadness too.

"Why?" Steve asks desperately between kisses.

Bucky seems to be having the same problem of not wanting to let go. He's holding onto Steve, hand and fingers holding tightly onto Steve's hair.

"I...have to..."

"Don't leave," Steve mutters as he finds Bucky's mouth and kisses him hard. "Don't leave me."

Bucky let's out a soft desperate sound before bringing his hands to frame Steve's face and push him slowly away. They're still inches apart but it does the trick.

"Oh my beloved," Bucky whispers before nosing Steve's cheek. "I will never leave you. Never."

Steve closes his eyes tight and tries not to cry for some reason.

"When can I see you?" He asks brokenly.

Bucky smiles and kisses his nose. "I'll be here come sunrise. You mustn't fear. I shall always be around you. Right under the surface."

Steve gulps before he nods. He still tries though. "Maybe I should sleep out here."

Bucky looks petrified. "No. You will be cold. No."

And in that moment, Steve feels Bucky's fins brushing the sole of his feet. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  "Yeah. You're right. I don't think I'll be able to sleep anyway."

He feels lips on his eyelids. On the right one, then on the left. Bucky whispers against them. "I won't be able to sleep either. I will count every moment...every beat of my heart...and wait for the sunlight to see you."

Steve runs his hand over his back and then all the way to his shoulder. He opens his eyes and sees Bucky smiling and everything feels light and fine.

"You’re the magician with those words.” Steve chuckles softly.

Few seconds later, he nod and whispers, “Okay,” before giving him a peck on the cheek.

Bucky blushes and then moves. Steve watches him as he moves swiftly, splashing once in the water before diving deep and disappearing into the sea.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve has a hard time sleeping. He would turn left and right and has tried sleeping on the couch. But his skin is tingling. He feels like he just ran a marathon and is hyped up and can't sit still.

He spends most of the night rearranging the vinyl records, cleaning the kitchen and then reading some books. He really has no hope of sleeping. So, it's very shocking to him when he suddenly hears birds chirping and feels the sun shining on his face.

Apparently, he has slept in his clothes and shoes. When he realizes that, he groans and buries his face in the pillow. It takes him seconds to remember what happened the day before and his face breaks into a wide grin.

He jumps up and gets ready for the day.

 

 

~.~.~

 

He sees Bucky popping out of the waters near the shore when he's half way there. Without a second longer, Steve gently lowers the basket, pillows and blanket he's been carrying and finds himself running all the way to Bucky.

Bucky's smile widens and Steve thinks that if he dies in that moment, he'll be glad that this would be the last thing he sees.

He runs and runs and runs and Bucky swims so fast that as soon as Steve wades into the water, he's in Bucky’s awaiting arms.

Steve doesn't wait. He kisses him right away. He presses his mouth against Bucky’s and moans at the force of it. The passion behind it. He tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss making it hot and frantic. He's not alone in this then. They're both gone. No return.

He circles his arm around his waist and Bucky loops his tail around him and tightens his hold as they embrace. Steve realizes that he should get changed later since the water is now reaching him mid chest.

“Good morning,” Steve says softly as he pulls away, hand caressing Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky nuzzles into his hand and whispers back, “I've been waiting since dawn. I miss you.”

“I’m so sorry. I had to bake some muffins for you and get some other stuff. Come on…”

Bucky lets Steve go first and watches him before he comes out of the water. Steve sets up the picnic and opens the basket. Bucky makes his way on the blanket, tail and fins making tracks on the sand.

When Steve turns around, he notices how the sand is covering most of Bucky’s tail and it's doing an injustice to its beauty.

It must be uncomfortable too.

“Oh, let me just…” and Steve takes the blanket and uses the end of it to remove the sand. He's just swiped the blanket over Bucky’s tail once, twice, when he hears a gasp.

“What?” He asks bewildered, turning to look at Bucky.

He finds Bucky red in the cheeks, mouth open and breath slightly labored.

_Oh._

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry.” He’s embarrassed him and now he doesn’t know what to do. And did he touch a sensitive spot? Did he…

Now Steve is the one blushing to the roots of his hair.

He pulls away and goes back to his spot. He claps his hands twice and shakes them, getting rid of the sand and also the awkwardness. “Right. Okay. Right.”

When he finally looks at Bucky, he finds him smiling softly, cheeks still pink.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

They stare at each other for seconds but Steve feels like it’s eternity.

“So, okay. Here.” Steve pulls out the two pillows he got.

And he maneuvers them, fluffs them, before he puts them under Bucky’s arms. “You can support yourself with them.”

Bucky eyes him with confusion.

“Oh, let me show you.” Steve leans over and rests his elbow there and stretches his legs. “See...like this.”

“Oh…” Bucky blushes. “You shouldn't have.”

Steve is about to say that he'd do anything when Bucky leans upward and lays a tender, long kiss on his cheek. He noses that same cheek after. Steve feels warm and hears those melodies again.

 

~.~.~

 

“What's it like down there?” Steve asks dreamily as he looks out the sea, Bucky nuzzling to his side. He rubs his back as they are both propped up against the pillows, enjoying the quiet atmosphere. Bucky sighs and inhales under Steve’s jaw before looking out where Steve’s gaze is directed. Into the horizon.

“It's grand.”

“Tell me.”

“All of us. Merfolk. Living. Deep down, inside castles and behind golden gates. Between pearls and silver and gold.”

Steve turns and watches Bucky. He sees the pure loving look on his face.

“So many creatures that never reached the shore. No human eye have ever caught one. All amongst us. Seashells and greenery.”

He turns to Steve who is enthralled by what he's hearing. “Tell me more,” he whispers.

“There are tribes of us. We live in harmony. My father rules these waters. We are peaceful as all tribes. Never had any of us lived near the surface. Our home is our world. On the other side, lies the forbidden...Your world.”

Steve tightens his arm around him, and Bucky clutches onto him in return.

“Why did you?” Steve asks in a wavering voice.

At this, Bucky looks up at Steve, gazing right into his eyes.

“Seeing the sunlight break through the surface of the water was one of the most intriguing and beautiful things I've ever seen. I had to investigate. But I don't know. I have always been drawn to it. To this world. To the other side. Something would always pull me, make me lift my head up and long for breaching the surface. And swim up to do so. ”

“I'm sure your world is far more beautiful than here.”

Bucky tilts his chin up. “No. Here is better.”

Steve shakes his head and smiles at him. “I’ll say it again...You haven't seen all of it or what's left of it for that matter.”

Bucky doesn't smile and stares into Steve’s eyes. He gulps before Bucky breaks his heart and mends it back again.

“Here is you.”

Then Bucky kisses where Steve’s heart is and Steve can't help but lift his head up and kiss him on the lips. Tears well up behind his eyelids but he makes sure they don't fall.

 

~.~.~

 

 

“I have to leave.”

“Why?” Steve asks as he puts away the book he's been reading to him.

“I can't be out of the water for a long period of time.”

Steve's heart thuds against his chest. He runs his hands over Bucky's shoulders. “Oh God. Are you okay? Oh God.”

And he feels petrified. “Did I keep you for long? Do you need to be in the water?” Steve moves to carry him but Bucky puts his hand over his cheek, halting him.

“No, Steve,” he says laughingly.

“Then what?” Steve covers his hand with his.

“I don't want father to get worried. I told you that before. He would send men to look for me.”

Steve goes to say that his father shouldn't treat him like that but it's not really his place. He doesn't even know the whole story. So he resigns with, “But you've been out here before-”

Bucky kisses his nose. “Not for this long.”

Apparently Steve pouts because Bucky puts his fingers over the corners of his mouth and tries to make the expression go away, tries to make his lips form into a smile.

“I will be back. I just have to let him see me in order for him not to get suspicious. We are forbidden to be here and if he knows that his youngest is here…”

Steve will try to process this later. He needs to make Bucky feel better. “It's alright. Go. I'll see you soon.”

Bucky wraps his arms around Steve and kisses him, stealing his breath away. It goes on and on before Bucky pulls back and quickly makes his way to the water, splashing into it before diving.

 

 

~.~.~

 

Steve is lying on his stomach on the rocky surface of Bucky’s favorite boulder. The moon is casting its light on the surface of the sea but Steve doesn’t gaze at it to appreciate its beauty. No.

His eyes and whole being is focused on Bucky down in the water. He’s flipping around, showing off, and it brings a smile to his face.

Folding his arms under him, he rests his chin on them and keeps watching.

Bucky swims back and then disappears. It always throws Steve off a bit with how long he stays under. He has to remind himself that he’ll be alright. The sea is him and he’s the sea.

Then Bucky breaks the surface, almost flying high, and flipping gracefully until he falls back in the water, disappearing. He keeps doing it until Steve laughs in delight at the acrobatics he’s witnessing.

“Stop. Okay. Now you’re just showing off,” Steve says loudly so he can be heard over the splashing sounds of the water.

Bucky smiles and his eyes shine and it knocks the breath right out of Steve’s chest.

“I can do something,” Bucky says quietly, eyes twinkling.

Steve leans down more. “What?”

Bucky reaches for the rock and his nose is now inches from Steve. “I'm not supposed to do it. But…” He kisses Steve’s nose and whispers, “Look closely into the water.”

He then dives back, doing a backflip. Steve leans closer, elbows now digging into the rocky surface but he forgets about it, focusing more on what Bucky asked him to do.

His eyes are concentrating on the water. But it's dark. Total abyss of darkness.

Then it happens slowly, gradually. Steve doesn't know what's happening and can't explain it but the water is starting to light up. It’s starting to glow. It’s becoming green and blue and different shades of purple before it’s turning to turquoise.

His breath catches in his throat when he sees Bucky down there. His tail is glowing in full force. His eyes are closed and seems to be in full concentration.

_Is he doing this? Is the water obeying him again?_

“My God...”

Bucky’s eyes then open and winks at him from under there. Steve can see it clearly.

_God help me._

The fins glow and glow by the second and then Bucky is twirling, lighting up the whole spot he’s in. The colors and light emitting...Steve will never be able to put them to paper. He doesn’t think humans will ever produce such color.

And then it dims down all at once.

Steve blinks and tries to look for Bucky. He chuckles breathlessly when Bucky springs up out of the water and climbs until his upper half is supported on the rock. His tail is still submerged under water.

“Did you see?” Bucky asks, swiping his hair away from his face.

“Y-Yes, I...I did. What-how and…”

Bucky giggles and leans up to kiss him quick on the lips.

“I shouldn’t have...it's not for any time.”

Steve frowns. “Then when?”

“It’s when we go deep down into the darkest places...the floor of the ocean...and sometimes...when we want to charm another.”

Steve raises his brow. “Oh really? Were you just trying to charm me just now?”

“Maybe…” Bucky bites his lip and blushes.

Steve shakes his head and softly admits, “You never need to.”

“I thought I’d woo you,” Bucky says, pushing himself up. His nose now is brushing Steve’s.

Steve kisses his nose gently. “You don’t need to, Bucky. You had my heart a long time ago.”

Bucky kisses him before brushing Steve’s hair back. He gets it wet but it’s soothing and Steve closes his eyes, sleep is on the edge of consciousness.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?” He’s in that limbo state. Feeling very peaceful and sleepy all the same.

He can feel Bucky caressing the back of his head. “Go home.”

“I _am_ home.”

“Even when you are asleep, you talk magic.”

Steve snorts and opens his heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m no poet, Bucky.”

Bucky nuzzles his cheek. “Go sleep.”

After three kisses, Steve waits for Bucky to dive back into the water before walking back to the cabin.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve is antsy on his way to see Bucky the next day. The sun is barely out and he's right near the rock. He's trying to recite to himself what he wants to say but the sound of a splash makes him shut his mouth.

He looks up and smiles.

There he is. Bucky. Right by their spot. Eyes twinkling and mouth turning up in that lazy yet warm smile.

Steve’s heart clenches and it hurts. He wants to see that the moment he wakes up. For the rest of his life.

“You're early,” Bucky says, arms under his chin, spread on the rock.

Steve sets the basket and blanket. He smooths his hair down for he still has bedhead.

“Couldn't wait.” It comes out shaky and he curses inwardly.

Bucky notices. Of course he does. He can sense his heart with a touch of his hand for God’s sake, so he must recognize the voice tone too.

He crawls down, and Steve goes there quick to help him climb down gently. Bucky grips him by the arms. “What's the matter? Your voice…”

Steve doesn't want to cry at the tenderness and love and delicacy. He runs the back of his hand over Bucky’s warm cheek.

“It’s nothing,” he smiles.

Bucky shakes his head and starts nosing Steve’s cheek and he swears he can hear melodies.

“There is sadness… “ and he buries his face in Steve’s neck. “I can hear it.”

Steve pulls away and kisses his forehead. “Come on. I baked you something.”

“Steve-”

Steve doesn't wait and swoops him up in his arms. “Maybe later. Right now, lets just watch the sunrise together.”

The frown is still there on Bucky’s face, so Steve leans over and kisses it away.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

After watching the sunrise and eating breakfast which was mainly Bucky gulping all the muffins, they talk. Bucky initiates it.

“What is it my beloved?” Bucky asks, head on Steve’s chest.

Steve summons up his courage and sits up, making sure not to startle Bucky.

“I want to ask you…” Steve feels he's being stupid. So the only way to do it is to just blurt it out. “Would you like to come over? I mean inside my house- I know it-I mean...I would just like to show you around and you can see…”

He pauses when he sees Bucky smiling. “What? I'm rambling I know, I know-oomph!”

Bucky jumps on him and kisses him hard. When he pulls away, he kisses his nose. “It would be an honor. And my pleasure too.”

Steve thinks his own face is going to break because of how wide he’s smiling. He kisses Bucky hard.

“Is today okay?” Steve asks after he breaking away.

Bucky kisses under his jaw which makes it really hard for Steve to think straight.

“I'm yours. Anytime.”

_Oh my God…_

“Okay. Okay.”

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

In the evening, Steve looks around the cabin to assess his work.

He squints, looking around. “Not bad. I think?”

He's cleaned everything after baking blueberry and banana muffins. He went out earlier to buy some candles. The record player is ready to be turned on. All the vinyls are downstairs now. The coffee is ready. And because Bucky hates coffee, Steve bought all kinds of fresh juice for him to try out. He also made sure that his bathtub is full of warm water. Just in case.

When it’s close to sunset, he grabs a blanket and drapes it over one shoulder. It doesn't escape him that there is a spring in his step and a lightness in his heart. He can feel his chest expanding at the prospect of having Bucky inside his home. In his intimate cabin. In his world.

A soft laugh escapes him. He shakes his head. He never thought that he’d be feeling such strong and surging happiness.

It’s probably the best decision he has ever made in his life.

“Steve!”

He looks up and smiles widely. There. Right there. Right there is the best thing that ever happened to him.

Bucky is already sprawled on the rock. Steve makes his way there and smiles up at him.

“Are you ready to see my small world?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, and instead, he jumps over and Steve catches him right in time. They’re both laughing heartily at their eagerness.

“Here,” Steve says as he motions for Bucky to drape the blanket over his tail.

“Why?”

“Just in case. I don’t want anyone to see you. I don’t want to risk it.”

Bucky covers his tail and fins and Steve walks all the way back. His arms carrying Bucky and it’s strange that he doesn’t find it weird at all.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

As soon as he reaches the door to the cabin, he turns slightly to whisper into Bucky’s ear.

“Ready?”

Bucky tightens his arms around his neck, almost strangling him in excitement. He nods his head hurriedly and Steve chuckles before kicking the door open with his foot.

Steve wishes he could capture Bucky’s reaction. He wishes he had a camera somewhere.

“Welcome to my home.”

Bucky’s mouth is open in shock. His eyes are wide. His arms lessen their hold from around his neck.

“Steve…” he breathes.

“It’s not a castle-”

Bucky gasps. “It’s splendid. Magnificent.”

Steve kisses his cheek before moving inside, heading to the couch. “I’m gonna put you down here.”

Bucky’s eyes are still looking around, drinking everything in. Steve puts him as gently as he can. The couch is not long enough for his tail, so the fins end up brushing the floor. Steve looks around.

“Is this okay? Or do you want-”

“This is okay. This is soft.” Bucky runs his hand over the cushion.

Steve smiles before going to the door and closing it. When he turns around, he pauses for a second at the scene.

Bucky. There. On his couch. In his home.

He can’t help but smile, feeling his heart fill in warmth and gratitude.

He walks back to the kitchen counter and carries a tray of muffins, all types of juices he got and his own mug of coffee. He lays it out over the coffee table.

Instead of sitting next to Bucky, he sits down on the floor, legs stretched under the table. His back is slightly turned away from Bucky.

When he settles everything, he turns toward Buck, looking up.

“What do you think?”

Bucky grabs his face and kisses him long and hard. “Teach me.”

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“And what is this called?”

“A table.”

“And this?”

“Fork.”

“Oh, so I can do this-”

“No, Bucky! Not for the hair.”

“And what’s this?”

“Rug.”

“Show me that big white thing.”

“It’s called a fridge.”

“It’s cold inside.”

“Yeah, it keeps everything cold so it won’t go rotten.”

“Oh and this?”

“That's a chair.”

“This?”

“Stove.”

“And this?”

“Candle.”

“Oooh, it’s so bright-”

“No, Bucky! You’re gonna burn yourself.”

“What does burn mean?”

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

“Are you ready for some music?” Steve asks, hands already picking up the vinyl.

Bucky claps once. “Yes!”

Steve chuckles and puts the pin on the record and lets the music play.

“I picked one...Kinda been wanting to listen to it with you.”

The violin starts and Steve stands there, hands in pocket. He pauses there, just looking at Bucky.

 

**_The evening breeze_ **

**_Caressed the trees, tenderly_ **

**_The trembling trees_ **

**_Embraced the breeze, tenderly_ **

 

“Pick me up,” Bucky says, raising his arms.

Steve smiles, walking back toward him. “Why?”

“I want to dance with you. Hurry.”

“But I’m horrible at it.” Steve, nonetheless, picks him up. An arm under his tail and the other under his back. Bucky’s arms going around his neck. Bridal style.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, looking instead at the vinyl turning and turning. Steve stands there in the middle of the cabin, at a loss of what to do.

 

**_The shore was kissed_ **

**_By sea and mist, tenderly_ **

**_I can't forget_ **

**_How two hearts met, breathlessly_ **

 

Steve notices how Bucky has gone still in his arms.

“Hey,” he whispers against his cheek.

Bucky turns around quick, burying his face in Steve’s neck. “Let us sway.”

Steve gulps at the vulnerability and longing in his voice. He starts swaying gently to the melody. Slow dancing. Steve’s arms tighten around him, bringing him closer to his chest, almost gathering him. He looks down to make sure he doesn't step on the dangling fins. Then he feels Bucky’s nose brushing under his chin, catching his attention, demanding it. And Steve obeys. He turns his face toward him. Bucky’s hand is playing with the hair at the back of his neck. They are breathing into each other, not kissing yet. They just gaze into each other’s eyes.

Steve wonders for the hundredth time: How did he end up here? With this soul? With this love in his arms?

There are nights when he wonders if he’s dreaming all of this.

“My Beloved,” Bucky whispers passionately. “My forever.”

Steve feels his world stops and zeroes in on this moment. This breath shared between them.

“My Bucky.”

 

**_Your arms opened wide_ **

**_And closed me inside_ **

**_You took my lips_ **

**_You took my love so tenderly_ **

 

Bucky tightens his fingers in Steve’s hair and brings his face to press a kiss to his lips. This kiss isn’t like their other kisses. This one has weight behind it. A promise. A vow. A commitment.

They kiss softly, tenderly, while still swaying to the music.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve settles down on the couch, Bucky lying on top of him, body resting between his legs. He plays a documentary about nature on his laptop. Bucky’s hands are resting on Steve’s pecs, holding on. They breathe in tandem. It's relaxing. Comforting. Serene. And natural.

Steve doesn't want the visit to end.

Maybe it's the crackling of the fire, or the scent of candles or the faint sound of music playing in the corner or maybe it's the closeness of their bodies. Steve isn’t sure. But soon, they both fall asleep.

 

 

~.~.~

 

 

Steve doesn't really know what wakes him up. But there is a howling sound. Something is hitting the walls of his cabin. At first, he thinks it's the creaking of woods. But the sound changes and it becomes...almost vicious. Too loud. Too alarming.

His eyes open quick. Fear grips his heart. He's now aware of his surroundings until it zooms in on Bucky sleeping in his arms.

His arms tighten around him protectively.

_Did I leave the windows open?_

He blinks twice before craning his neck to look at the door. It looks like it's going to be ripped apart and away from the walls. Window shutters are swinging dangerously, knocking onto the walls. Water is leaking under the door. It's raining hard and if he doesn't do anything about it, his cabin will flood.

_Shit._

“Hey, Bucky,” he whispers gently. He doesn't want to alarm him. Yet, he can't help the urgency in his voice.

“Bucky? Bucky?”

“Hmm…” Bucky burrows into his chest.

“Wake up, sweetheart. Come on.”

Bucky wakes up and Steve really wants to cherish this moment. This moment of Bucky finally waking up in his arms. But maybe some other time, when his cabin isn’t about to fall apart.

He looks breathtaking in his confused state. Steve can’t help but smile at him. Bucky’s eyes though...the look in them change gradually. They go from sleepy to confused to alarmed.

“How long...how long have we slept?” he asks, shaking.

Steve lifts himself up, careful not to make Bucky fall off the couch. His arm comes around him to keep hold of him. He checks his phone. “It’s past midnight.”

Bucky’s face pales.

“It’s okay, Bucky. Just stay put while I go-”

“It’s father. This is father’s doing.”

Steve pauses and sits up. He certainly didn’t expect that. “What?”

Bucky looks around and closes his eyes. He’s still for a second before blinking his eyes open. “I can sense him.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s just a storm.”

Bucky grips his shoulders hard. Nails digging into his flesh but Steve hides the pain he’s feeling in his flesh.

“I must go! I must go!”

Steve frowns. “No. I’m not gonna let you out there now. Let’s just wait until the storm dies out-”

“You don’t understand! I’ve been away awhile. This is _him_. He’s wrecking havoc.” Bucky’s voice is wavering and Steve doesn’t like that.

“Hey Bucky. Calm down-” He goes to touch his cheek and hands but Bucky slides away, hitting the floor. “Bucky!”

“I must go.” He maneuvers from around the table, crawling, and Steve’s heart breaks. So, he quickly gets down and picks him up in his arms.

“Let me go, Steve!”

“I’m not going to let you go out there alone.”

Bucky holds him again by the shoulders. “If I don’t get home-”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you!” Steve admits hotly, finally voicing his fear regarding his father.

Bucky’s face goes soft for a second. His hand reaches for Steve’s cheek, cupping it gently and reassuringly. “He will never hurt me. _Never_. But he will hurt someone if I’m not there. And…”

Steve kisses him on the forehead, once, twice before looking back into his eyes. “What?”

“If he knows about you...here...with me...now...he won’t rest until he drowns you and your home. And I will die before I let that happen.”

They stare at each other for too long. Each one is determined to hold their stance. Steve is trying to really not think about Bucky's words. His promise. What it means to him. How real. And how final it is.

The loud cracking sound of thunder and sea waves crashing into shore is loud and clear, it makes them both break eye-contact and look directly at the door of the cabin.

“Steve,” Bucky pleads. “Just open the door. Look at the sea. You will understand.”

Steve looks back at Bucky before nodding and heading there, still holding Bucky strongly against his body. Bucky reaches for the door and opens it before bringing his hand back to rest around Steve’s neck.

Breath catches in Steve’s throat. The sky is purple and red. Two colors that are beautiful but not now. Not when the sky looks like it’s about to fall down and drown in the wild waves. And the waters...When it comes to thunder and lightning, one is supposed to look up. But Steve is looking at the waters. It’s like the thunder is coming from down there. Deep under water and slicing through. Electrifying the waters, illuminating what’s under there.

But Steve still can’t see anything beyond the horrific scene before his eyes. The sea waves are rising up and up, challenging the sky. Promising to bring everything down. Even the clouds are scattered, trying to escape what’s brewing under them.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not gonna let you go in there.”

“What? You can’t.” Bucky struggles and tries to wiggle out of his arms but Steve holds on to him tight.

“It’s dangerous!”

“It’s my home!”

They are breathing rapidly before Bucky leans and touches his forehead to Steve’s. “I will be fine. As soon as I get to him, everything will stop. I promise. Think of the ships. The humans out there...”

Steve shakes with fear for him and Bucky hugs him tight, hand going to rest over his heart. “Be calm. Be calm.”

“Let me take you near shore at least.”

“Steve, no-”

“It’s faster.”

Bucky pulls back, eyes studying Steve’s face.

And Steve drinks him in. Memorizing each and every color and emotion in those pretty ones. Because what if it's the last time? What if...

“Please?” Steve tries to smile but can’t bring his lips to work.

Bucky nods and holds on while Steve runs all the way to shore. When he’s near the water, his heart thuds erratically against his chest. It’s even more ominous up close. He can’t imagine letting Bucky go out there alone.

He has to trust him though.

Bucky turns his face around and kisses him one last time. It’s quick and over. Bucky doesn’t even let him lower him to the ground. He jumps from his arms and into the water.

Steve watches in total helplessness as the storm starts to wreck everything and the sea is trying to escape its place. Trying to fly off to fight the sky.

He walks backwards slowly. Hoping. Praying. That Bucky will come back to him.

And if he doesn’t, Steve will not hesitate to go to him.

Consequences be damned.

  
  


 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tenderly by Nat King Cole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKXEsi6O-XA)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are LOVE.


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